


What He Wants

by ALMartin1011



Series: What He Wants - Bucky Barnes Fanfic [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky barnes x reader - Freeform, Depression, Enhanced Reader, F/M, James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader - Freeform, James "Bucky" Barnes/ Reader - Freeform, Reader-Insert, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, bucky barnes / reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-07-30 09:51:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 33,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20095333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALMartin1011/pseuds/ALMartin1011
Summary: Reeling from the death of Steve, Bucky can’t find any reason to keep going in the modern world. After a terrible first meeting, Bucky finds you’re willing to fight for him even when he isn’t. You know Bucky isn’t a lost cause and you’re determined to do everything you can to help him figure out what he wants in life.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovies!! I’m so excited to get this out into the world because it’s been consuming my soul for the past few weeks and I just love this story so much. It’s 100% done but I’m still scrubbing so for now I’m going to try and get parts of it up everyday. Please hang in there with me as we get through all the angst, it’ll make the fluff SO much sweeter later on.

Stephen Grant Rogers died on a Tuesday, he was 105 years old. By Friday, James Buchanan Barnes was on a plane headed to Somalia with absolutely no intention of returning. Pepper Stark was a formidable leader but she was no Tony, and she was unable to talk the soldier out of taking the assignment. Pepper was going to decline the request from SHIELD, it was too great a risk for any of the Avengers to accept so soon after the passing of Tony, and then Steve. They were all still processing their shared grief and needed a break. The universe was safe, for now, and they could take a breath for once. 

Bucky didn’t share the sentiment, unable to bear the loss of his best friend. The mission sounded perfect to him, he would fly out immediately after the funeral and with any luck it was just as dangerous as Pepper had warned him it would be. There was already a team on the ground and waiting, they had been in place doing recon for six months and were finally ready to send in a strike team. 

The whole team expected Bucky would have difficulty processing the loss of Steve but none of them knew to what extent. No one had seen the soldier shed a tear all week but on the day Steve passed FRIDAY had alerted Pepper to a disturbance in his room. She hurried down the corridors to Bucky’s wing of the compound to see him emerging from his room, hair wild and eyes red rimmed. His gait was determined and he blew past her without a word. Pepper carried on, taking a glance inside his room where he had left the door hanging open. The room was trashed; papers and clothes strewn across it, every piece of furniture broken apart. It was like a bomb had gone off. Pepper had never been close with Bucky so she let him go; she wanted to leave him with his dignity. Discreetly, a cleaning crew came in and Pepper had the furniture all replaced within a few hours. By the time Bucky returned from wherever he had gone the room was as spotless as it had been that morning. 

The day of Steve’s funeral the Avengers compound was flooded with the remaining members and close friends, the Guardians had even flown back for the event. It was an outpouring of love for their lost friend. Bucky wanted to be happy that Steve had been able to live out his life the way he had always dreamed, and he was to an extent. A selfish part of him though could only see a lifetime of loneliness without his best friend. Steve had been his friend since they were barely old enough to walk. He had been his brother, his protector, his lifeline to the new and unfamiliar world he’d woken up to after the thaw. Bucky couldn’t imagine a world without Steve and he didn’t think he wanted to. 

Bucky sat in the front row of the church, Sam to his left and Pepper to his right, only half listening to what was surely a beautiful service befitting America’s hero. His right hand was clamped down on his thick thigh, trying to keep it from shaking. The vibranium of his left hand sat still on his lap, not having the problem of nerves. He stared down at the appendage with belated fondness. Shuri had done an amazing job with creating an arm for him, it was a shame he wasn’t going to get to enjoy it longer. Bucky’s mind was set by that point, carry out one last mission and hopefully get caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. He hoped that Steve’s blind faith in God was real and that he would be joining his friend soon. If not though, at least he wouldn’t be in pain anymore. Bucky knew he was being a coward but in his mind there was nothing left for him but a long, bleak life. Steve had been the only person to really see past the Winter Soldier lore since he’d come out of the ice. The other Avengers had been civil, some even friendly after a while, but he doubted any of them would ever truly accept and trust him. 

The ceremony wrapped up without Bucky noticing, too lost in his own thoughts, and Pepper laid a hand on his shoulder, startling him back to reality. “We’re all headed back to the compound for dinner.” She told him softly. 

Bucky nodded and stood up. He would go back with them but not for the meal. He needed to grab his tactical bag and get a cab to the airbase where there was a fighter jet waiting to take him to his mission. Back in his room Bucky looked around taking a quick mental image of what would be the last time in the place. On impulse, he grabbed an old picture of him and Steve and stashed it in his bag. It was from the 40s right after Steve had received the serum and joined him in the army. They were both so young and happy to be on another adventure together. It was painful for him to look at the image but even harder to imagine leaving it behind. 

He had seen Rocket earlier, joined by Quill and the rest of the Guardians and thought of his taunts of stealing Bucky’s arm. As much as he loved the vibranium upgrade from Shuri, he still had his Winter Soldier arm and it wasn’t like he was going to wearing either of them much longer if he was lucky. He carefully removed the vibranium arm and set it back in its velvet lined box. The cold steel of his original prosthetic was jarring compared to the other one and brought to mind too many horrors, all fighting for precedence in his mind. He shook his head to clear them. This was better, he thought, to go out the same way he had gotten into this whole mess. He didn’t want to be Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, that man was as dead as the beloved Captain America. All that was left was his ghost and the Winter Soldier who needed to carry out one final mission. 

Bucky slipped quietly past the party going on in the living room. He sent a text to Rocket, asking him to meet him in the foyer, hoping he had his phone on him. A moment later Rocket stumbled out, already feeling the effects of the drink he held in his paw. “Hey, you ditching the party?” Rocket said a little louder than Bucky would have preferred. 

“Somethin’ like that.” Bucky mumbled, “Keep it down though, will ya?”

“So what’s up?”

“Well, you always said you’d get my arm.” Bucky pushed the case at Rocket who stared at it like it was a live grenade.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on there man, why you giving me this?” Rocket started to look concerned, almost panicked, and Bucky ground his teeth, wanting to avoid a scene.

“Consider it a parting gift.”

“As much as want this hunk of tech, and man do I want it, you’re starting to worry me here. Where you going, tall dark and stupid?” 

“I have a mission, I gotta go. Have fun with the arm.”

“Oh man, come on. You’re gonna need this thing eventually. I’ll just keep it safe for you ‘til you get back.”

“Not likely.” Bucky picked up his gear and headed out, ready for the conversation to be over. “Take care of yourself, Rocket.” He called over his shoulder.

“Y-you too, Barnes.” Rocket stammered, still staring at the case at his feet.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again lovelies! This is a shortie update but I’ll make it up to you on the next one, I promise ;) This installment gets our boy halfway around the world to our mission.

Bucky was on the fighter jet for almost a full day, stopping only briefly to refuel as needed. He hated every minute of the confinement, unable to stop his mind from going places he’d rather it didn’t. He didn't know what was worse, the memories of him and Steve as kids and rambunctious teenagers, or flashes of his time as the Winter Soldier. By the time he landed in Mogadishu, Somalia he was almost feral. He needed it to be over already. He was tired of the agony his mind was spinning and ready to start his last mission. Once he was in combat he could let the Winter Soldier take the reigns and then only slip back in to ensure he was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. As the hours drug on his mind drove him from hoping to finding himself into a predicament to the intention of finding one if he had to. 

“Sergeant Barnes.” A short, salt and pepper haired man greeted him on the tarmac. He was decked out tactical gear and carried himself like a lifelong military man. “I’m Captain Michaels. We need to get moving, I’ll brief you on the way to the safe house.”

“Captain,” Bucky said with a nod. 

Sensing he wasn’t getting more of a response, Michaels lead Bucky to the SUV and signaled the driver to take off. 

The drive to the safe house was almost an hour and Michaels made use of the time briefing Bucky on the current situation and mission. There was a terrorist group trafficking young girls in from other countries to be sold into slavery and worse. Some of the girls were as young as six and were being put to work as maids and farm hands until their bodies had matured enough to be of other uses. Bucky felt sick at the depravity laid out before him in pictures and case files. These guys were like another head of the same Hydra, different methods but the same soulless evil at heart. This was the type of mission he was built for; complete, remorseless annihilation of the sick bastards who thought people could be used and exploited for their own gain. With every mile that passed Bucky found himself slipping further and further into the icy oblivion of the Winter Soldier and he welcomed the cold. 

The safe house was a dugout in the side of a hill out behind a rather normal looking single family home. At first glance it was nothing more than a cluster of spindly bushes but a small latch was unearthed and opened a door to a long set of stairs. Michaels had explained that the location was secure and some agents were residing the main house, but they couldn’t be too careful with their special guests. Bucky had been surprised to hear that they had another agent with special abilities involved in the mission. He knew little about the woman Michaels had mentioned was residing in the safe house and had been on the mission for almost six months. He had heard the name before in passing, Minerva, but never met her. Her alias was supposedly deadly accurate. She was a legend at SHIELD, a rarely used agent who was supposedly all knowing, all seeing, and able to come up with battle plans that never failed thanks to her insight. He had heard she could slip into people’s minds with ease and once inside nothing was buried deeply enough to hide from her. Bucky smiled bitterly to himself, this mission was going to end with one hell of a surprise to her if he had anything to say about it.

Michaels lead him through the labyrinth to the main community room where several agents were stretched out, watching television and a few sat at a rickety cafe table playing cards. “Agents,” Michaels announced as they entered the room. “Our final guest has arrived.”


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ya’ll thought you were only getting one installment today, didn’t you? Nope! Your girl was busy editing yesterday (thank god for coffee) and I wanted to get up as much as possible. This is a long part but I couldn’t really find a better stopping point. This part has a major tone shift as we are now introduced to our other main character…. YOU!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Tone shift/ tense shift, you (reader) are introduced*

Bucky is met with eager smiles and admiration by the three men and one woman who wanted to shake the hand of what one dark haired man calls “a real American hero”. Bucky cringes at his word choice but forces himself to shake their hands. You sit up straighter on the sofa but don’t move to gaggle around him like the other four agents. You don’t look like an agent, Bucky thinks, you looked college kid. You are wearing a baggy University of Penn hoodie and thin grey leggings, your long curly hair sitting on top of your head in a messy bun. Bucky’s eyes trail over the soft, rounded curves of your body, thinking that you were just the type of girl he would have tried to chat up 80 years ago. Your eyes though, that piercing gaze, locked in on Bucky’s the second he entered the room like he was a puzzle you couldn’t quite figure out. Suddenly, a pressure builds in Bucky’s head almost like the early signs of one of his headaches but not as painful. You let out a harsh gasp and double over, eyes blazing at him as agony floods your senses. Just as quickly the pressure is gone and Bucky has a sinking feeling it was related to your outburst. 

“What the fuck was that?” Bucky demands harshly. 

“Minerva, play nice.” Michaels warns you. 

“Were you in my fucking head?” Bucky is beyond anger as he storms across the room to you. You are no longer staring at him with curiosity, it has morphed to fear and pain but it doesn’t deter him. In that moment as he crosses the room Bucky doesn’t care how beautiful you are, or how scared and hurt you look, staring up at him with those large, doe eyes. All he knows is that he spent too many decades having his brain poked at by other people to let it happen again. He lashes out his metal hand, pressing you down by your sternum onto the sofa, “Do you know what happened to the last people who fucked around in my head?” 

The other agents scramble to pull Bucky off of you as you struggle for air. Your small squeak of “yes” startles him so much he recoils, gaining control of himself briefly. Flashes from him are coming rapid fire as he towers over you, in your agitated state you can’t control things as well as you normally would. Everything coming from him is a scrambled mess of agony, terror, rage, and hate. Surprisingly, none of the emotions are aimed at you, they’re all aimed towards the man himself. You stare at him, trying desperately to control your breathing, wondering how he can function with all those awful things flying around his head. 

“Then stay the fuck out.” He hisses before walking back over to Michaels “Just show me to my room and keep that one away from me if you want her to keep breathing.” 

Michaels grimaces but leads Bucky down the maze of hallways to his quarters.

“She doesn’t always mean to do it.” Michaels says by way of explanation. “She’s well trained but sometimes she doesn’t have control over when it happens. Look, the mission itself won’t take more than a few hours if we’re lucky, and then you can be on your way. Please do your best to work with Minnie, she really is one of our best agents.”

Bucky wants to laugh at their nickname for you, Minnie is not a name he would have thought suitable for an agent of your caliber. He has no intention of going near you again but he is comforted by the loyalty and confidence Michaels has in you. 

When Michaels storms back in the common room you cringe. It had been a mistake trying to peek behind the curtain of the Winter Soldier’s mind but you had started poking around before you had even realized what you were doing. Michaels joins you on the sofa, sighing heavily. “You really know how to make friends, Minnie.” He grumbles at you. 

A lump forms in your throat, you hate letting him down. Michaels had been your first handler at SHIELD after your life had gone to hell and after everything you’d been through, you thought of him as a surrogate father. “Sorry, Michaels.” You say quietly, “I didn’t mean to at first and then there was this buzzing, like static, and I just wanted to know what was behind it. I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life.”

“It’s best to just leave that one alone. I was shocked as shit he agreed to come out and help us, it would be good we don’t burn our bridges right off the bat.” 

“I’ll apologize to him later. Make it a little easier to work with him tomorrow.” 

“You don’t go near that man, Minnie. I mean it. He’s a professional, tomorrow will be fine. I don’t want to risk you pissing him off more.” 

“Okay,” you tell him, only partly agreeing. You grab your book from the coffee table. “I’m gonna go read in my room for a bit. It’s quieter.”

Michaels nods and lets you go without any further warnings. He knows things can get a little loud for you when there were too many people around and sometimes you just need some peace. It’s an unfortunate side effect of your ability, sometimes you can't shut it off completely even when you want to. You collapse on your stiff metal bed, enjoying the quietness of your room despite how bare it is. You miss your apartment on the farm back home. It’s a tiny, outdated apartment above a barn that was currently home to a herd of sheep. You had needed the isolation after the incident that left you able to enter other people's minds. 

Eleven years ago you had been a bright eyed college kid getting to see New York City for the first time. You had one year of college left and then you would be graduating with your bachelors in psychology. The trip to NYC had been a last minute decision by your best friend to celebrate surviving finals. You were eating lunch in the park when the attack happened. Before you could get to safety, the Chitauri had flooded the park destroying everything in their path. You ran as fast as your legs could go, clinging to your best friend’s hand. You weren’t fast enough though and your arm jerked back as a creature split your best friend in two right before your eyes. The glowing sword like object in his hand swiped at you, lancing your arm open before an explosion knocked you apart. 

You had woken up hours later in a holly bush, your body covered in cuts and bruised beyond belief. The cut on your arm had already healed into a thin red scar but the noise was what concerned you the most. It was like being inside a stadium with everyone shouting at once. Luckily a SHIELD agent had found you and you blubbered to him that your friend was killed and you were attacked and now everything was screaming. You had heard his thoughts, that you were just another crazy person, and you cried to him that you weren’t. He had realized you heard the thoughts he hadn’t spoken and decided to take you back to headquarters. 

Director Fury had put you through a battery of testing and you had started to regret agreeing to them by the end. You spent weeks being tested like a lab ran until they had a plan in place to help you learn to control your ability. It had taken almost a year of hard work but you were finally able to return to a semi normal life. SHIELD was happy to accept you as an agent, though a freelance one. You took a few jobs here and there to cover your bills and pay off your student loans. You never got around to finishing your degree but had eventually saved up enough money to live comfortably. The farm had been a godsend. Cities were just too much for your senses anymore and you found refuge and a home on a little farm two hours outside Philadelphia in the backwoods of rural Pennsylvania. It was quiet and peaceful in a way you hadn't been able to enjoy since the incident. You knew you couldn’t hide there forever but part of you hoped you could. And you had, until Michaels had called with a high risk, but important mission. 

The mission in Somalia was enough to set you up for a lifetime if it was successful. You would be permanently retired after this one, no more running around playing super hero. It was mostly surveillance, reading people to know who was the bad guy and where the girls were being held, but it was also partly mercenary which you hated more than anything. There was a dark side to your ability that you tried your best not to think of, but which haunted you in the long hours of the night when you couldn’t sleep. If you wanted to you could do more than just witness people’s memories, you could manifest them. Even manipulate them if needed. You could reach into a murderer’s mind and bring up everything awful memory he had and make him think he was reliving them all over again one after another until they died from the agony, their hearts giving out under the stress. It wasn’t something you did often but the few times you had it left you cold inside for a long time after. Michaels knew you hated it, but in this case the men you were going after deserved no less cruel fate. You spent every day not on a mission trying to atone to whatever deity would care by using your ability to help trauma victims and returning soldiers deal with their emotional scars. You helped them focus their minds on the positive memories and in some cases had helped people move past their long buried trauma by working through what had really happened. It was exhausting work but you loved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I will have more to post again tomorrow. 
> 
> Feel free to come find me over on Tumblr under Ethereal Waif Goddess! I post this stuff and all sorts of awesome Marvel fangirl posts I find.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’ve managed to make a less than stellar impression on our boy but because you’re a good person you’re going to try and make it better. Emphasis on *try*. Hope you all enjoy reading!

You are jolted from your memories by a loud banging on your door. You had wasted almost the entire afternoon reading and daydreaming. Michaels has come to collect you for dinner and to check on you. Sitting around the metal kitchen table with your team you can’t help but notice the empty seat that was left for your newest member. Guilt twinges fresh in your chest, knowing it is your fault the soldier is skipping dinner. You finish your plate quickly, excusing yourself to the kitchen to wash up your dishes. You hurry to fill another plate before anyone notices what you are doing and head off down the maze of hallways to the soldier’s room. You pause outside the door, knowing what you are doing is stupid but needing to try all the same. Michaels can be pissed at you later, what you had done was inexcusable and you need to apologize.

You rap lightly on the door twice and wait. A shuffling noise comes from the other side of the door and it opens a crack before slamming back shut. “Do you have a fucking death wish?” He growls from the other side of the door. 

Your temper flares despite yourself, “No, I have your fucking dinner.” You yell at him, his foul mouth rubbing off on you.

You hear a low, masculine chuckle, and the door opens wider this time. His expression is still lethal and it makes you wonder if you had heard the chuckle at all. “Gimme the food and get lost. I don’t need any more people poking around in my head.”

You slip a barefoot in the door jam as you hand him the plate, “I’m sorry about earlier, I really am. Sometimes I do it before I can stop myself. I would never invade your privacy like that intentionally.” 

Bucky assesses you for a moment silently. He wants to hate you but finds he couldn’t despite your earlier actions. Your eyes are too open and genuine, your bottom lip distractedly full as you chew at it nervously. “Just don’t let it happen again.” He grumbles.

“I won’t, I swear. I was just caught off guard when you walked in.”

“What? Never seen a super soldier before?” He asks snarkily with just a hint of suggestiveness. 

Your eyes widen, shocked at the shift in his tone. “No, I, um,” you falter, “Your mind, it, uh, puts off static?”

Bucky grunts, “Huh. Go figure.”

You take advantage of his waning surliness, “It’s actually pretty amazing.” You continue in a rush, “I’ve never come across anything like it and-“

Bucky cuts you off mid-ramble, “Are you gonna let me eat this food or just talk to me all night?”

Your temper flares again, damn this man for getting to you, “I could do both if you let me in.” You snap.

There is that chuckle again. Your insides warm at the sound of it; low, masculine, and filled with dark enticing promises. “Come on in, but if you pop into my head again you’ll be dead before you can scream.”

You shudder, knowing he is very capable of carrying through on that threat.

Bucky’s room is almost identical to yours and you take a seat on the edge of the bed while he sits at the desk eating his food. You pick at the side of your thumb nail nervously. He seems so much larger sitting alone with you in the tiny bedroom. You don’t feel threatened despite his earlier words, the feeling is more overwhelmed than scared. He is literally a lot to take in. From his broad shoulders and the wavy brunette hair falling on them, to his solid waist and thick thighs. You have to force yourself to keep your eyes off him, you haven’t had this much trouble with your body’s responses since you were a teenager. 

“So, what exactly did you do earlier?” Bucky asks finally after finishing his plate in several rapid bites. 

You fight back against the nerves rising up, “I didn’t mean to do anything. I need you to know that.” You’d only be around him for a few days at most but it feels so urgent in that moment that he knows you aren’t a monster that pokes around in people’s minds carelessly. 

Bucky’s pale blue eyes drill into yours again as he contemplates his response. “Okay, but what the hell happened? I felt like I was getting a headache and then you yelled.”

“Do you know about my ability? Why they picked Minerva for my alias?” 

“You can get inside people’s minds, or something, right?”

“Pretty much. Think of it like having a backstage pass into someone’s head. I can see what’s up front, on their mind, and also the things in the back they think are buried.” 

“HYDRA would have killed to get their hands on you back in the war.” 

You shudder, “I wouldn’t let them get me alive. I know full well what my ability makes me capable of and I won’t use it to hurt people.”

Bucky’s laugh is acerbic, “Oh really, doll? So what’s gonna happen tomorrow when we get the bad guys cornered? Are you gonna just have a tea party with them? Or are you gonna pop their bubbles until they burst? Yeah, I heard about what you did in Turkey a few years back.” 

Bile rises up in your throat at the memory. “Fuck you, Barnes.” you spit the words at him. “Fuck you and your weird static brain.” You stand to leave but the soldier is too fast. He looms over you, taller than you by over a foot, his metal hand pushing the door shut. 

“You still haven’t told me what you did. It’s my messed up static brain, I deserve to know.”

“I heard the static when you walked in. It was like when the TV is on a nonexistent channel. It surprised me because it was so loud, I normally can control things better. But I was in and I moved beyond the static before I was really aware of what I was doing.”

“And, what did you see?” Bucky demands, his chest heaving, terrified to hear your response. 

“Agony. Pure, all consuming, agony.” 

Bucky winces, “Yeah well, welcome to my own personal hell, doll.” He moves back, opening the door for you to leave. 

Your nerves are shot from the encounter and you slip from the room taking a deep breath of fresh air in the hall. “I don’t know how you can bear that much pain.” You say before you can stop yourself. 

Bucky shrugs and shuts the door but you hear his quiet comment, “Not for much longer.” And it chills you. You wrap your arms around yourself and head back to join your team, hoping someone has started up a game of poker again. You need the friendly camaraderie of your team, your makeshift family for the past six months, to keep your mind off the very unsettling soldier down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'll be back tomorrow with another chapter :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit’s about to get real ya’ll. I wouldn’t say graphic violence, but there is definitely some. This part is going to be a lot of tension and some violence as we get to see more of your abilities and your team carries out their strike on the terrorist compound.

The mission is relatively simple. You have the location of the terrorist group’s headquarters and most of the holding centers for the girls. Your team is going in to take out the headquarters during their check in meeting when everyone is on site. Your objective is to get the information on the last holding facility that you still only have a general area for. The rest of the team is being brought in to take out the terrorists and extract any girls they have with them. After that, the other teams will raid the holding centers, extract the girls and take out the guards. It is critical headquarters is taken out first and you have a narrow window to strike. 

Bucky sits back listening to Michaels run through the mission one last time and prepares himself for a fight. He can feel the soldier itching under his skin, wanting to be let loose to reign hell down on the enemy. He can’t wait to just lose himself in the fight where he has one purpose and no earthly emotion can reach him. Bucky knows in his gut that it is going to be his last mission, there will be plenty of opportunities for an accident to happen. Once he knows their side is on the winning end of the battle all it will take is one “misstep” into the line of fire. 

The ride out to the headquarters is silent, the team tense and anxious for this to be over. Bucky sits ramrod straight in the back by himself, silently praying to Steve, his mother, his sisters, anyone who will listen to his silent pleas, that he is sorry he isn’t strong enough to keep going but that he will be with them soon. The only sign he is in distress is the fire in his icy blue eyes and the hand that digs roughly into the side of his thigh. You notice though and it takes all your self restraint not to pop into his mind to see what has him so out of whack. You curse to yourself, if he messes up this mission it will be the death of all seven of you and six months of hard work wasted. You intend to keep an eye on him the best you can but once the bullets start flying you two will be on very different trajectories. 

Booker, the youngest member of your team, is the first to strike. He jumps out of the van and slips silently around the two stationed guards, slitting their throats before they even know what is happening. The rest of your team rolls out and you stride right into the headquarters compound like you own the place. Michaels keeps you at his side, knowing you aren’t a strong fighter and will need escorted through to your targets. 

It is thirty minutes of blood, bullets, and screaming until your team gets to the panic room where the heads of the group are hiding. A quick set of grenades blows the door to hell and exposes the five shaking criminals. Bucky and Simmons stand guard while Booker and Michaels tie the men up for you to interrogate. You can hear the chaos outside, the rest of your team making their way through the compound. Shaking your head to clear it, you start in on the first man. For depraved human traffickers they are much easier to crack than you expected. 

The first two men don’t have knowledge of the location you are still looking for but they do have dozens of awful, frightful memories that make you retch as their hearts eventually failed. The third man you can tell just by looking at him is in charge. He assesses you coldly and you get a glimpse of yourself, naked, battered, and begging at his feet in his mind. You never look forward to ending someone’s life but this man is about to be the exception. The depths of his depravity top the worst you’ve ever seen by tenfold. You work quickly pulling the location from his mind and you scream the information to Booker who sends it back to command instantly. 

“Wait!” You yell, “There’s one more.” It is so secluded your team had never even heard whispers of it. It is the leader’s private location where he is holding girls for his own sadistic pleasure. He fights you, trying to flood your mind with misinformation but it isn’t enough. You call out the final location to Booker, loving every moment of watching the man’s face fall as he realizes he failed. Quickly you pull up every awful memory you can find in his mind, letting the pain and terror wash over him until he is gasping and clutching at his chest. Using your ability is always draining but three in a row, and how deep you had to dig on top of the stress, has you collapsing against Michaels. But it is over, your mission was successful. Michaels fires bullets between the eyes of the last two men and confirms with Booker that command has the locations and strike teams are ready to go. Booker and Simmons are ordered to go help the rest of the team in taking out the remaining targets within the base, no girls are on site as far as they can tell so far. Bucky and Michaels are tasked with getting you out alive. 

Bucky can’t help but be impressed by you. Your ability is still unsettling to him, it reminds him too much of Hydra but instead of wiping memories you force them to the surface. He respects the hell out of your determination though. Bucky had watched you wear yourself out to the point of total exhaustion; focusing only on the mission until it was complete, regardless of how it sickened you. For a split second when you had collapsed against Michaels, Bucky had actually taken a step to go to you before his brain caught up and he’d stopped himself. You are a stranger, he knows he has no right to comfort you. He relegates himself to sideways glances, appeased that despite being deathly pale you seem stable. 

You lean against Michaels for support as you make your way through the compound. Exhaustion is taking over but you know you need to get back to the van before you can rest. You find yourself admiring the way Bucky moves with such grace, efficiently taking out the enemy with single shots. No movements or bullets wasted. It is distracting to your exhausted mind and you wonder briefly if the soldier puts that much attention and focus in more carnal activities. Shaking yourself for having even the most fleeting thoughts of him like that, you realize your little trio is about to be in deep shit. There is one last stretch of hallway between you and the exit and it is filled with a dozen trained guards, all bearing automatic weapons.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well here we are, lovelies. Our boy is about to hit rock bottom. But remember, once you hit rock bottom the only place you have to go is up :)

“Get the girl out of here.” Bucky barks at Michaels and with a smile he starts running towards the men. It’s startling, how happy and relieved he looks as he runs, his hair flying around him, blue eyes glittering. You know something is off, you can feel it in your gut and so you do the only thing you could think to do. You dive back into the Winter Soldier's mind, pushing past the static to his thoughts. It’s a suicide mission. He was waiting for the opportunity to take himself out and he is running to his death intentionally. “NO!” Your scream is deafening and startles every man in the hall momentarily. But that moment is enough. Faster than you ever thought possible you run through their minds, tossing each man into his own worst nightmare before they can fire. Not enough to kill them, but enough to keep them incapacitated for the time being. 

“He’s trying to kill himself.” You gasp to Michaels as the world blurs. 

Michaels looks at you stunned for a moment before setting you down against the wall with a gun in your hand. Michaels runs off towards Bucky who had stopped in front of the men, confused by their screams and the lack of bullets. Michaels makes quick work of taking down the men and starts yelling at Barnes loudly for his stupidity. The super soldier glares down at the older man but his expression changes as a bullet tears through his calf, another grazing his hip. He curses viciously and turns to take out the guards coming up the side hallway as he falls. Michaels catches him and, while he struggles under Bucky’s weight, he is able to keep him upright. 

Your vision clears and you force yourself up, your muscles trembling as you fight exhaustion to stumble down the hall. You are sluggish but you manage to catch up to them and the three of you flee the compound as quickly as you can. Michaels fires off several rounds at the two guards you come across and then you are back to the safety of the van. 

Bucky is wrapping his leg up with gauze, trying to staunch the bleeding the best he can with a limited medical kit. He hisses as he pulls the wrap tighter against his skin.

“You deserved that.” You snarl at him.

Bucky’s expression is pure rage. In that moment, he is every inch the terrifying murder machine the stories make him out to be. “Fuck you.” He grinds out between clenched teeth.

“No, fuck you, Barnes.” You are done trying to reign in your emotions, “You could have cost good people their lives on this little suicide mission of yours. What would have happened if you had seen the opportunity sooner? We might not have even succeeded. We could have all been killed because of your stupidity. I don’t know what the hell happened that you thought suicide by combat was an option but it’s not. Not on my watch anyway.” 

“I’m sorry, Stevie.” He whispers to himself, his head hanging low. You barely catch the words but you recognize the name and had heard of Steve Roger’s death earlier in the week. You feel a pang of sympathy for him, having first hand experience with the pain of losing a lifelong friend. 

“I’m sorry you lost him but-“

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!” He bellows, pulling himself up. Blood runs down his leg in pulses and he struggles to come after you. 

“I heard you say his name, dumbass. I don’t need to be in your fucking head!” 

He looks like he wants to say more but he is so pale and the blood loss catches up with him as he crumples to the ground. 

“Well that’s easier.” Michaels comments as he goes to pull the soldier’s body to the back of the van.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubt anyone will notice but just a heads up in case you do.... starting tomorrow I will be adding the new chapter(s) in the evening instead of first thing in the morning. Getting up at 4am so I have time to post before work is just not working out very well for my poor sleep deprived brain. But please know I love all of you awesome readers and updates will continue to happen daily until the story is complete. XOXO - Ash


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rock bottom is behind us and our boy is awake and trying to figure out what to do next. He’s still in rough shape but we’re starting the climb back up to a better place.

Bucky wakes up almost a full day later in a sterile white hospital room. It takes him a moment to orient himself in the room, panic filling his chest before his current memories rolled in. It is too similar to waking up in a HYDRA facility, his memories wiped, his body healing from the latest round of experiments they had performed. His breath comes in ragged sobs and he pulls desperately at his hair, trying to focus on the present. 

“Hey Rumpelstiltskin.” You say, startling him. 

His face pales and for a moment you think he’ll pass out again. Just as quickly though his cheeks heat, embarrassed to have his moment of panic witnessed. 

“What day is it?” Bucky asks, his voice full of gravel. 

“It’s Sunday. You’ve been out almost a full day.” 

He curses under his breath but makes no attempt to continue a conversation.

You go on anyway, needing to fill the silence. “We had to evac you to the nearest military hospital, you still had bullet fragments in your leg. You were in surgery for over an hour but they said you’ll be back on your feet in a few days because of the serum. You might have a slight limp for a while though, there was considerable damage to your calf muscle.” 

For the first time since he’d woken up Bucky looks down at his right leg which is wrapped up and slightly elevated in the bed. “At least it’s still attached” he jokes grimly. 

“Not funny.” You chide him. “We’re going to have to talk about what happened.” 

“Why? Shouldn’t you be off hacking into someone else’s brain?”

You let the barb pass, refusing to be baited by someone who currently looks like he can't sit up on his own. “Nope, the mission was a success. I’m back on my own free time now and I’ve decided to hang around and piss you off some more. So, would you like to tell me when exactly you decided to off yourself?” 

“I… I wasn’t… It’s none of your concern. I’ll be out of here by tomorrow and you can go back to pissing off the other people in your life.” 

“Stop dodging. And there are no other people in my life. It’s just me, and all I’ve got is time.”

Bucky winces slightly at your confession. He knows what it was like to have no one but yourself and it is more painful than he’d ever admit. “I’m real sorry to hear that.” 

His sympathy shocks you, as does the pain radiating from him. The agony you had a glimpse of two days ago must have been only the tip of the iceberg for him. “It happens.” You brusquely move on, refusing to let him keep dodging the subject. “You said something before you went down on the compound, a name, Stevie. You were talking to Steve Rogers, weren’t you? Is that what this was all about, losing Steve?” 

Bucky would have rather taken twenty more bullets in the leg than have this conversation with you. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Steve was my best friend and he lived a full, happy life. I’m glad he got to live the life he dreamed of for all those years, even though it meant we lost him so soon.” His words don’t match his eyes and for an ex- assassin he is a pretty terrible liar. 

“But what about you? Your life?” 

“Well, doll, that was almost not a problem. But you had to butt in.” 

“Damn right I did. What about your life, Bucky? Shouldn’t you get your happily ever after too?”

Bucky straightens himself a little at your use of his name. His insides clench curiously at the sound of it tumbling so delicately off your lips. “My happily ever after died the second I fell from that train back in 1944. Every moment since has just been a prolonged purgatory.” 

His words hit you like a ton of bricks but you steel your emotions, not wanting him to see how much his pain affects you in fear he’ll clam up. “I’m sure you still hate me, and you absolutely can, but I have to think that our paths crossed for a reason. I only know what I’ve read in your file and heard of in the news, and none of it adds up to the guy sitting in front of me.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” 

“See, there it is. You act like a tough guy but it’s all bullshit. I promise I won’t go near your mind without your explicit permission but I want you to come back to The States with me. I have a place that’s secure, only Fury knows where it is and he’s a tight lipped son of a bitch.” 

“Why in the hell would I go back with you? Why would you want me to? And I will never, ever, give you permission to fuck with my head. I had seventy years too much of that shit.”

You switch tactics, desperate for him to give himself a chance. “How did it feel, seeing Steve come back at the end of his life? Knowing he had found a way to get married, have a family, grow old with the love of his life. You had what, three months with him before he passed?” 

Bucky’s whole body shakes, he looks so frail under the flimsy hospital gown, dark circles haunting the undersides of his eyes. It’s like your words sapped him of any remaining strength he had. “Why are you doing this?” He whispers, barely holding on to his emotions.

“Because I want you to think, Bucky. Think about what you want the rest of your life to look like. You know what Steve did with his, how happy he was. I know he was ‘Captain America’ and all, but why does that mean he gets a happy ending and you don’t?” 

“If you knew half the shit I’ve done over the past seventy years you would already have the answer to that.” 

“Nope, not buying it. I’ve seen the files and I know what they did to you. You had no choice over what you were doing.”

“Still did ‘em though.” 

“Yes, physically it was you. But mentally you were checked out. That’s how mind control works, and they did a hell of a job on you.”

“He’s still in there, the Winter Soldier. Deprogrammed or not, he’s still lurking, waiting for a chance to pop back out. The world is better off if I eliminate the risk” 

“Bucky, of course he is. He’s part of you, you can’t just erase him. Deprogramming will remove the triggers that bring him out but that’s it. You need to make peace with that. The world will be better off with you in it. You have the potential to do so much good.”

“Like what, huh? What good can I do? Most of the world will never see past the monster and I can’t keep doing these missions. I’m so fucking tired, doll. I’m just done.” 

“So retire. Walk away. This mission payout was high enough to live on for two lifetimes, take it and come back with me.”

“I don’t take money from missions.”

This is news to you. “What? How do you survive without it?”

“Savings. Steve. And the Avengers. SHIELD knows not to deposit my pay, they gift it to a handful of charities I picked out when I signed on. I won’t profit from warfare.” 

Your heart sinks in your chest, he has more good in him than he realizes and you become even more determined to help him see it. “Well, I have enough stashed away from mine to keep us afloat. Do you know what I do back home?” 

“You sound like a fucking shrink.”

“Good call. I work with returning soldiers and trauma victims. I was one year away from graduating with a psychology degree before the attack on New York. The therapy center near my home is kind enough to look past my lack of a degree considering how close I was to finishing and my unique qualifications. I get to use my ability for good, to help people move on with their lives.”

“So I’d just be homework then.” Bucky wonders for a moment how much his life would have changed if you had been there when Steve tried to save him the first time. If you had been able to bring back the past Hyrda erased when they created the Winter Soldier. Your angry snap at him breaks him from his thoughts. 

“Hell no. And stop it. I want you to come back with me because I think once you get your damn head on straight you would be a great addition to our team. You would be able to help us care for some of these guys with a level of empathy that you are uniquely equipped to give.” You purposely squish down the tiny part of you that’s screaming you also want him to come back so you can keep getting lost in those pale blue eyes and help mend his aching heart. 

Bucky shifts, uneasy at your proposition, and forgets they had taken off his metal arm. Where he expects to brace himself, he finds just air and he topples over, scrambling with his right hand to keep himself from falling off the bed. The hole in his right leg pulls and he swears. You’re a mess, he screams internally at himself.

You jump up as soon as you see him tip and grab his shoulder, trying to steady him. He jolts at the contact, staring into your eyes with a mix of fear and surprise that takes your breath away. Bucky shifts himself up, trying to get comfortable and your hand lingers along the wide plane of his shoulder. You rub it soothingly above where the metal starts and he shudders. No one had dared to touch him in years except Steve, and even he never went anywhere near the mutilated part of Bucky’s body. Your soft fingers rubbing at the sore muscles make him want to beg you to keep going. His eyes shut, rolling back in his head for a moment. “Okay.” He finally murmurs, startling even himself at the decision.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So our boy has agreed to back home with you, yay! Let’s get his butt up and moving, shall we? Also, I apologize for the angsty bit in this part, it honestly made my heart hurt writing the one bit. Not as bad as when he took off towards those terrorists in chapter six, but it still made all sorts of sad. You’ll know it when you get there. Or maybe not and I’m just WAY too attached to the characters in my head LOL.

You’re as shocked by his concession as he is. “Okay.” You agree, finally breaking the contact. It had been more intimate than you intended and you shut down the twinges of desire that are flaring up. You return to your chair on the other side of his bed by the window and start making arrangements for him to travel back with you. Distracting yourself helps keep the shaggy haired soldier out of your mind for a moment so you can stop thinking about how handsome he looks sitting there all disheveled. It is beyond inappropriate but your body reacts to him in ways you had forgotten were possible. Damn hormones, you curse internally. 

Bucky is having his own set of problems while he tries to look around the room instead of staring at you like he wants to. You are a mystery to him, you could be so soft one minute and then bitingly sarcastic the next. You have a temper which amuses him, he loves watching the apples of your cheeks flush when you snap at him for something. Before the war he would have done everything he could to charm a girl like you. All soft, feminine curves, begging to be worshiped, and that long curly hair he just wants to get his hands wrapped up in. He stifles a groan and pulls his eyes away from you yet again. You are trying to help him, nothing more, he reminds himself. You work with sad, broken, charity cases every day and you are just trying to make him your next project. He doesn’t deserve to think about you the way he has been for the past ten minutes. You would never want a basket case like him around long term. He’d probably be out on his ass in a week once you get tired of him. It is worth a shot though. He isn’t ready to face the Avengers again and it is a tempting offer of help that might actually do some good. Steve had pushed him to go to therapy for years between missions but he was never willing to trust he’d have the same luck Steve did with talking about his problems. Some demons need to just stay buried. 

“Can I get you anything?” You ask him as you wrap up your message to Fury letting him know the change in travel plans. 

“Nah, I’m okay, doll. Actually, yeah. What should I call you? I know Minerva is just a SHIELD alias” 

You shake your head, you never use your name outside of your real life. “Nope, sorry Sergeant. You can call me Minnie like all my other friends.” 

“Minnie, like the mouse. I can’t see that fitting.”

“Blame Michaels for it.”

Bucky chuckles, “Okay, mouse, when do we leave?” 

Your body heats at the nickname, damn him for making it sound so intimate. “As long as you get discharged we can leave tomorrow. It’s a fourteen hour flight and we need to leave no later than noon. We’ll get into Philly around 8pm local time.” 

“Well, let’s get the doc then. Get me cleared to go.” 

You laugh lightly at his new found enthusiasm to go home with you. The sound hits Bucky in the chest like a grenade. He thinks it might be the most genuinely happy sound he’s ever heard. It’s pure like crystal bells and a deeply buried part of him wants to spend the rest of his life finding ways to have you keep making that sound. He fights to get himself under control, irritated you keep having an effect on him. You are out the door, off to find the doctor and he slaps his right hand against his forehead, trying to knock some sense into himself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The doctor clears Bucky after running through the basic vitals and checking on the rapidly healing wound. His only stipulation is that Bucky keeps his weight off of it for a few days until it has fully healed over. He warns Bucky that despite the serum he still might have a slight limp and he’ll need to be careful not to push his body out of alignment by catering to it. 

The doctor is insistent on calling in two of the male nurses to help Bucky get up for the first time, just in case he falls. Bucky seethes with disapproval but he quickly realizes his right leg is completely useless for the time being. They give him a single crutch to tuck under his right arm and help support his weight. Relying on the crutch he hops a few steps forward with an awkward gait. 

“It’s going to take some getting used to.” The doctor warns him, “I want you up and taking a walk for a few minutes every hour until you leave. The more mobile you are the better. And you’ll need to get up once an hour on the plane to avoid blood clots.” 

Bucky just glares and grunts as he forces himself to hobble along. He hates the way your eyes looked at him so softly as he struggles to do something as simple as get himself to the bathroom. It is beyond demeaning and he feels like a complete disaster. Left arm missing, right leg useless for the time being, and his head all mixed up and fried from decades of ice and wiping. But he makes it to the bathroom and he slams the door behind him, needing a moment alone. Carefully lowering himself onto the closed lid of the toilet Bucky takes a bracing breath and finally lets himself break down. Tears flow endlessly, his shoulders shaking violently. It is all just too much. He shouldn’t be alive, he should be at peace with Steve and his ma and his sisters. But this world keeps pulling him back to fuck with him some more. He wants to believe in happily ever afters, but they weren't meant for guys like him. Slowly, he gathers himself back up, reigning in the burning in his chest and drying his eyes. 

When Bucky exits the bathroom the two male nurses are waiting to ensure he makes it safely back to his bed and you are standing at the edge of it, waiting for him with your endlessly patient expression. He shuffles back slowly, but manages to get himself situated without help. It is a small victory and he’s glad for it. 

You fight for control of your face, he doesn’t need to know the walls of the hospital are paper thin and you had heard every sob and sniffle he made. He especially didn’t need to know how those broken sounds had torn you apart limb by limb and it took every ounce of strength you had not to run to him. So you hand him his phone as if nothing is wrong and ask him casually what he is in the mood for, for dinner. The conversation is light and you’re determined to keep it that way. He deserves time to rest and relax, and you’re going to make sure he gets it.

It isn’t until late that night when he wakes up to catch you sleeping in the same wooden chair you’d been inhabiting all day that Bucky realizes you must have been staying with him since they’d brought him here. He wants you to have somewhere comfortable to rest, you don’t deserve to sleep awkwardly in a hard chair because of him. “Minnie” he whispers in the darkness. 

“Hmm?” You wake up groggy, “Whatcha need, Buck?” You mumble. 

No one but Steve had ever called him Buck but it sounds so perfect coming from your sleepy lips. “Why don’t ya go get in a real bed, doll? You can’t sleep there all night.”

“Hmm mmm. No. Not leaving you.” You protest sleepily. 

“Damn stubborn woman.” He grumbles.

“Stupid man.” You reply before slipping back to sleep. 

Bucky is irritated you’re staying in the chair but he is also exhausted and in the end sleep wins out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a shortie chapter, last of the shorties too. Just need to get our boy home so we can get things moving in a positive direction for him!

The flight back to Philadelphia ends up being over fifteen hours but thankfully only one stop. It is exhausting and hard for Bucky to get up to move around once an hour. Several times you fight to help him despite his snarls that he is fine. You are both feeling grimy and surly by the time you leave the airport. The cool, night air is cleansing and you inhale deeply. 

“So, where’s home?” Bucky asks you for the umpteenth time. 

“We’re not going there first. Too risky.” You explain, “I always spend a night in the city to decompress and wait out anyone who might have followed me. We’ll head out tomorrow morning as long as everything checks out.” 

“As long as I get a bed I don’t care where we end up.” Bucky groans, leaning heavily on the crutch. He has his metallic arm back on and his bag slung over his left shoulder which seems to only add to his struggle. You worry about how far he will make it and hail a cab for you both instead of trying to walk the few blocks to the hotel. It is well past check in time but the hotel is accommodating as they always are for you. Bucky keeps looking around, caught between taking in the sights and watching for any shadows lurking in the corners. You rub your hand along his right arm, trying to let him know it is okay without words while you wait patiently for your room key. Bucky is hesitant to share a room with you but he has to admit it makes the most sense. He wants to keep an eye on you, not that he can do much of anything in his condition if trouble arises, but it is the principle of the matter. 

Inside the small hotel room you toss your bag onto the bed closest to the windows and throw yourself on the bed. “Oh my god!” You let out a loud moan, “I forgot what a real bed felt like.” 

“I told you to get a bed last night but you wanted that crappy hospital chair.” Bucky points out with a shrug. 

“Oh shut up. That was just two nights. You know how awful your bed was at the safe house. Mine wasn’t any better and I was there six months. This is heaven.” 

Bucky sits down on the other bed, glad to be off his feet. You were right, the bed is far softer than the thin safe house mattress. But that was what he was used to and the fluffy hotel bed feels strange and unsettling to him. It’s too soft and he wonders if this is what normal people sleep on every night in their warm, safe, suburban houses. He’s been on the move for so long, he’s more comfortable on threadbare mattresses and pallet beds. Or so he thought. Bucky wanted to get a shower and change but the softness of the bed lulls him to sleep before he can even roll over. 

You hear a light snore from across the room and pop up to see a very asleep super soldier in the bed next to yours. You smile to yourself, glad he is resting. Careful not to disturb him too much, you move his bag to the floor by his bed and take his shoes off, placing them next to the bag. You stare at his metal arm and wonder if it is better to let him sleep with it on or try and take it off yourself. You worry it will cause discomfort staying on so long and you don’t want him to be in any more pain than he’s already in. You had watched him put the arm on earlier in the day and are pretty sure you could take it off if you’re careful. There’s a valve on the inside he had secured it on with and you hope releasing it will let you to slip the arm off. 

You hold your breath as you lean over the bed, carefully pulling up the sleeve of his black shirt so you can get to the top of the prosthetic. The release valve hisses for a second and you cringe, waiting for him to wake up. Bucky stirs for moment but doesn’t wake. With delicate fingers you pull the arm off and away from him, cheering internally when he doesn’t even flinch. You set the arm down on top of his bag and pull a spare blanket over him. Once you’re satisfied he is tucked in properly you climb into your bed, reveling in the luxury of a soft place to sleep for the first time in six months.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rise & shine! Time to get up and moving after the first night back in the US.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I would really leave ya’ll with a short little 700 word installment on a Friday?? Pffft. It’s a double post day! Mainly because the last part was super short, but it’s also Friday, and honestly I’m in a really shitty head space right now and making ya’ll happy will make me feel a little better.

The next morning you wake before Bucky and take advantage of being the first to grab a shower. You are squeaky clean having used almost all of the complimentary bottles in the bathroom and know you’ll have to get new ones so Bucky can get a shower too. You slip down to the lobby and procure the extra supplies as well as two cups of coffee. Bucky wakes up with a start, you are beginning to suspect this is a habit with him. He sits up in the bed, eyes darting around wildly for a moment until he catches his bearings. 

“Morning Bucky.” You say to him over the rim of your coffee cup. 

His eyes fix on you and he groans, rubbing at his face. The sight of you in a pair of little grey shorts and a T-shirt, wet hair falling around you in waves, is the last thing he needs to see right when he wakes up. He is already dealing with morning wood from hell and the sight of you makes him want to double over. 

“Not a morning person?” You continue, assuming he is grumpy. “I brought you coffee, black.” You point at the mug next to the night stand. 

Bucky’s issue remedies itself when he goes to reach for the cup with his left hand and realizes he is not waking up as he had fallen asleep. His shoes are off and so is his left arm. He wants to vomit at the idea of you having to do that for him. Your delicate, perfect fingers having to navigate the wreckage of his left arm; where the scars and metal still riddle his skin from HYDRA using him as their own Frankenstein’s monster. It is a never ending reminder of how fucked up he is both inside and out.

You watch his distress and feel guilty at having been so bold. “I’m sorry.” You blurt out, unwilling to wait for him to start berating you, “You fell asleep so fast and I wasn’t sure what to do. You’d had it on all day and I figured it would be more irritating to leave on and I just wanted to help so you didn’t have one more ache to deal with today.” You take a breath finally, waiting for him to start in on you.

Bucky watches your rambling efforts and how you brace yourself, ready for him to do his worst tongue lashing. Of all the emotions running across your face Bucky doesn’t see any pity or disgust and he’s grateful. He can’t bring himself to reprimand you. As much as he wants to keep you from that ugly part of himself, you had only been trying to help and he’s impressed you figured out how to get it off without waking him. “You were right. It would have hurt like a bitch today if I left it on that long.” 

Your eyes widen and you try not to smile, taking a quick sip of your coffee instead. Bucky slides himself to the edge of the bed, testing his right left and finding it still too tender to stand on. He carefully slips on his prosthetic and grabs the crutch to help himself up and to the bathroom. He knows showering is going to be a challenge but he has to at least attempt it. Carefully he maneuvers himself, balancing on his uninjured leg and quickly scrubbing himself clean before he needs to sit back down on the edge of the tub. It takes longer than he wants it to but in the end he is clean and smells like a human being again. He stares at his reflection in the large behind the sink mirror and cringes. He knew he avoided mirrors for a reason. Bucky runs a towel through his hair once more before popping his head out of the bathroom to ask you to throw him his bag. You hand him the black duffel through the crack in the door, careful to avoid seeing anything you don't need to. Dressing is awkward but he manages and he changes his bandage noticing the wound was already looking better. 

By the time he is done in the bathroom he is desperate for coffee, already a little worn out. You are sitting at the small table still drinking yours and flipping through a newspaper. He notices you had gotten changed for the day into a baggy white T-shirt over faded blue jeans. Bucky settles in on the edge of his bed to enjoy the coffee, watching you read. Curious as to how someone so young could be so wrapped up in SHIELD, he asks you.

You look up from your paper, amused he thinks you are so young and glad he is making an effort at conversation. “I’m thirty two.” you inform him, “Though I guess compared to a hundred something that is pretty young.” 

Bucky is surprised, he wouldn’t have put you past mid twenties, “You look a lot younger.”

“I get told that a lot.” You shrug. “Just one of those faces, I guess. SHIELD helped me out after the attack on New York. I didn’t know how to control my ability and I probably wouldn't have made it if they hadn't found me. So after all their help I signed on as a freelance agent” 

“You got lucky. That’s good.”

“I don’t know if it was luck. I watched my best friend get murdered in front of me and then the thing turned on me which is why I ended up with this ability.” It is a painful memory and it stings to think of it.

Bucky wishes he could swallow his words back up, knowing he caused you pain from the memory. “I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t know.” 

“And now you do.” You stand up, ready to move past the somber topic and start your day. “Are you up to grabbing breakfast downstairs? They have a decent restaurant that makes pretty much everything.” 

“Lead the way.” Bucky says, grabbing his crutch and pulling himself up. 

You are impressed with how much better he is moving after a good night’s rest. In another day or two he would be almost as good as new at the rate he’s going. You slow your pace down to walk with him down the hall to the restaurant, thankful for your first floor room. 

Bucky eats like a starving man and you have to keep yourself from chuckling a few times. “Do the Avengers not feed you?” You tease as he tears into his second plate of French Toast. 

Bucky looks up at you and then down at his plate, “Super soldier” he says simply between bites. He sets his fork down after a moment, “You should have seen Steve. Or Thor. I thought Pepper was going to faint at our first grocery bill.” 

You do laugh then, trying to imagine that situation. “Good to know. I’ll have to set up another grocery delivery then. I only have my usual stuff coming tonight.”

“You can order groceries? Why not go to the store?”

“Normally I’m just too busy. By the time I’m able to go out I’m exhausted from work and it makes it harder to turn off my ability. With so many people around, it’s just… a situation I’d rather avoid.” 

“Makes sense. I’ll try not to eat you out of house and home.”

“It’s fine, I can place another order. I have a feeling that a week of stuff for me is going to last about two days.”

Bucky grins, “If we’re lucky.”

You shake your head and start back in on your omelette. Breakfast with Bucky is strangely normal. He seems at ease after he’s eaten something and it’s like he forgets that he is supposed to guard himself around you for a minute. You pay the bill once you both finish and slowly make your way back to room to grab your things. The taxi you arranged arrives right as you are turning over your keycard to the front desk and Bucky loads your bags into the trunk while you take care of checking out. 

The bright October sun blinds you for a moment when you step outside and you remember why this was your favorite time of year. The air is starting to lose the humidity of summer but isn’t cool enough to be uncomfortable yet. You hop in the taxi next to Bucky and hand the driver your address on a slip of paper. The man looks at it for a moment “This is a two hour drive, lady.” He says, concerned. 

“Here, take my credit card and run it. I know it’s far but my car broke down.” You tell him. 

Bucky gives you a look, wondering if the bit about your car is a lie. You raised an eyebrow at him, it is a lie but covering your tracks on the location of your home is critical. 

“It’s your bill.” The taxi driver grumbles and pulls away from the curb into the busy city traffic.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a blessedly drama free installment. Our boy is heading home with you and we get our first look at your life away from SHIELD.

You always love the drive back to the farm, it’s only half an hour later that the cityscape falls away to reveal expansive fields and lush forests. The leaves are not quite ready to turn in full but some have started to yellow a little. The trees are all still full and you crack the window a little to breathe in the fresh, clean air. Bucky is still on high alert, watching the landscapes pass by with interest. Eventually though, even he is lulled into complacency of the lazy hills and farms. He is resting his eyes, leaning against his side of the taxi, probably on the verge of sleep, when you glance over at him. You wonder how long he will need the extra rest to help him heal. They had really made a mess of his right calf and he’s lucky it’s healing so quickly. You curl up in your seat, wanting to rest for the last hour of the drive yourself. It’s going to be a lot of work to clean and settle back into your apartment after having been gone so long. 

The taxi driver wakes you both an hour later as the car pulls into the drive of the address you had given him. To both of your surprises, you had found your way over to Bucky in your sleep. You had curled up on his shoulder and his head lolled to rest on top of yours. You both jerk away, embarrassed to have woken up this way. You thank the taxi driver and grab your bags from the trunk. The man drives away and you pull out your phone. Bucky watches you intently, wondering what is so important that can’t wait until you’re inside. 

Bucky catches only your side of the conversation, “Hey, Martha. I’m back. Yeah, I know. I need a pick up. No, I know, but I have a friend with me and he’s not able to. Yeah. Okay, thanks.”

You turn to see Bucky staring at you like you have five heads. “What? You didn’t think I’d actually give out my real address did you?”

A grin spreads across Bucky’s face. “Smart girl.” 

“Have to be. I love my life here too much to risk it.” 

Bucky looks down the long tree lined lane and sees a tan sedan coming down the road towards you. 

“That’s our ride.” You tell him as you wave to your friend. 

An older woman with a deeply lined face and silver white hair jumps out of the sedan to wrap you up in a tight embrace. She is spry for her age and deeply tanned. “Hey Martha.” You say hugging her back.

“Oh, sweet girl, I was worried you weren’t coming back this time.” The woman says with glassy eyes.

“Nah, it was a cakewalk. I told you it was going to be a long trip this time.”

“I know but I still worry.” Martha turns, realizing you are not alone, “And who is this young man?”

“Martha, this is my friend Bucky. He’s going to be staying with me for a while ‘til he’s back on his feet.”

Martha nods and Bucky is suddenly uncomfortable under the scrutiny. The woman finally makes a humph sound and turns back to you, “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours. I’ll let Chris know so he doesn’t try to chase him off if he sees him around. 

You shoot Bucky a smile, Martha has a great instinct for people and she clearly didn’t find any red flags popping up with him. It makes you happy to have him accepted into your world by the person who means the most to you. 

“Well let’s go here kids.” Martha grabs one of your bags, “I was in the middle of cleaning out the pens so I could move the herd.”

You pick up the rest of the bags and load them into the trunk of her sedan, falling into easy conversation with her to catch up on what you had missed around the farm. Bucky holds out the passenger side door for you, not expecting you to sit in the back with him and you accept. It is a sweet old fashioned gesture, much like the centenarian super soldier watching you from the backseat. 

Bucky finds himself intrigued by you as you slip so easily back in what you consider your real life. You are quick to laugh and you talk rapid fire fast when you get excited about something. The sedan pulls into a long gravel drive, just half a mile down from where it picked you up, and winds its way through the woods to your home. The farm is beautiful and had likely been around when Bucky was a kid. It is well taken care of and the buildings look to be mostly original from what Bucky can tell as he takes the place in. 

Your apartment is a few hundred feet from the main house at the top of an old white washed barn. It isn’t until you are a few steps up, excited to be home, that you realize Bucky hasn’t followed you. “Oh.” You say looking down at him, “I didn’t think about this. Shit, I’m sorry Bucky.” 

“It’s okay. I, ah, I just need to figure this out.” He stares at the stairs like they are a particularly difficult math equation and you try to brainstorm options as quickly as you can. 

“Here, let me take your duffel and the crutch.” You motion to free up his hands. “The railing is sturdy on both sides, if you hold on to them you can hop. Maybe? I don’t know. Maybe that was stupid.” Your brain is going a mile a minute, trying to find a way to get Bucky up to your apartment before he can change his mind and leave.

Bucky smirks at how flustered you are getting. Your concern is sweet and he isn’t about to let a flight of stairs stop him from staying with you. “Okay, mouse. Let’s give it a try.” He hands you his bag and the crutch which you add to your load without complaint. Carefully, testing his weight on the railing, he hops up the first step. It is easy enough and he is grateful for his upper body strength that pulls him along without difficulty. 

You hurry up the stairs to get the door unlocked so he can get right in as he hops up behind you. The air inside your apartment is stale and hot and you want to get your windows open as soon as you are both inside. You toss your bags by the door and go back to Bucky with his crutch. He is waiting patiently on the top step, trying to catch a glance inside the apartment. 

“Some place you got here, mouse.” He says looking around once he’s inside. 

You close the door, latching all five of your strategically placed deadbolts. “It’s not much but it’s mine and it’s safe.”

“No, I really like it. I mean that. It reminds me of my place before the war.”

“Really?” His honesty catches you off guard and you pause at the window you are opening. 

Bucky nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I had a little place over a friend’s garage back in the day. It was small but just right for me. Looked a hell of a lot like this place. Right down to that tacky pink and white linoleum in there.” He motions towards your kitchen. 

“Oh, wow. Martha told me when I moved in that the farm was depression era, I forget what year, and they kept most everything original in their house and mine.” 

“I can tell.” Bucky comments still looking around in awe. 

You go back to opening every window possible, stealing glances at Bucky as he goes around exploring your home. Once he has a feel for the layout of the place he trails back to the living room, picking up your random little knickknacks that occupy the room. You don’t have many and he is curious as to why these few tiny objects have been deemed worthy of sitting out. 

“Make yourself at home.” You say, joining him in the living room. You sprawl yourself out on the outdated tan sofa for a moment, happy to be home at last.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a shortie update :( I thought I was past the shorter parts but this little guy slipped through the cracks. So enjoy, and hold on for a minute while I quickly scrub the next part LOL. But for now, please enjoy a very comfortable, domestic-ish Bucky.

Bucky joins you on the sofa and picks up the book on your coffee table. “The Beautiful and The Damned, huh.” 

“I read a lot.” You shrug.

“I’m not judging, Fitzgerald is classic. I read this a long time ago.” Bucky is amazed at how at ease he feels in your apartment. It truly is like walking back into the 1940’s except for the modernized appliances. Even the sheer breezy curtains that flutter in your windows make him think of his younger years. “So you like antique things?”

“I like the simplicity of it. The apartment came furnished and I didn’t want to change a thing. It was just peaceful, you know? The only modern upgrades I made was the TV and getting WiFi.” 

Bucky nods, still looking around. You turn on the TV, bringing up Netflix and scrolling through the choices. “Do you have a preference?” You ask him, realizing you don’t know the most basic things about the man sitting beside you. 

“I like the funny shows, sit…coms?” He tries to remember what Steve had called them. 

You nod encouragingly. “Yeah, sitcoms. What else do you like to watch?”

Bucky shrugs, “I haven’t watched much of anything. Just a few shows that Steve, or Sam, or someone else was into. I like to read mostly.”

You wave an arm around at your apartment which Bucky had already noticed was full of books with an expansive bookshelf on the back wall of the living room. “Take your pic. What kind of books do you like to read?”

“Fiction mostly, some biographies if it’s someone I find interesting. Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Vonnegut, Hardy. I’m not too picky.” 

“I have a little from all of those. And some more modern authors I like too.” You try to keep the soldier talking. It feels like something rare when he opens up about himself, even if it’s something small. “What about music? I have an app on here, Spotify, you can play whatever you want by searching the title of the song or the artist.”

“I’m really pretty easy, mouse. I like the big band stuff I grew up hearing in my ma’s kitchen, rock from the 60’s and 70’s, the heavy metal that started coming out in the 80’s. I think 90’s grunge is pretty great too. I’m not a picky man.”

“Good to know. So let’s see, what else? What do you like to do when you have downtime? Like, not just hanging around the type house stuff.”

“Haven’t had enough downtime to really say.”

“What about before the war then? What would a young James Buchanan Barnes get up to on a Friday night?” You tease him lightly.

Bucky smirks and goosebumps break out on your arms, cool tingling, sensations running through your body. You wish you could stop your body’s reactions to him but at least you don’t think he noticed. 

You are painfully wrong. Bucky bites the inside of his cheek to keep his smirk from turning into a full grin at the way your cheeks flush and goosebumps break out along your arms. It’s easy for him to forget the war and subsequent decades while sitting in your little apartment. For a few hours he lets himself forget, and he is just a guy getting to know a pretty girl. Bucky rarely indulges in fantasies but he can’t help losing himself in this one for a little while. He starts asking you questions back, wanting to know all the random little things that make you uniquely you. You both share your likes and dislikes on all sorts of things, as well as childhood memories and funny stories. 

It isn’t until your doorbell sounds down at the barn entrance signaling the grocery delivery has arrived that reality crashes back down on him. You stand up to go get your groceries and Bucky jumps up on his feet, old gentlemanly habits dying hard. But the second his weight presses down on his right leg he crumples back down onto the sofa with a heavy thud. He curses at himself, rubbing his sore leg and hoping he hasn’t made it any worse.

You kneel down next to him, trying to peek under the bandages to see if he is bleeding again. “Are you okay? You forgot yourself there for a minute.” 

“I’m fine.” Bucky growls, hating that he had lost touch with reality for a minute. “Go do you what you have to do.” He moves his leg away from you and you frown. He’s retreating behind his hardened mask again and you wonder what has sent him running. Not willing to let the poor delivery man wait any longer you run down the stairs to collect your bags.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’d never leave ya’ll with such a short installment on a weekend! And this part is a loooooong one. Our boy gets a little grumpy with you but you figure him out and get your day back on track. Fluff and some slowly building feels at the end. Enjoy darlings!

When you come back up, arms loaded up as full as you could get them, Bucky is no longer on the sofa. You drop your grocery bags on the kitchen counter and find Bucky out on the little balcony off of your dining room. He’s leaning over the railing for support, looking out into the woods. You leave him be for a moment to put away your groceries and let him work through whatever is going through his head. He hasn’t moved an inch by the time you join him outside and his expression is hardened compared to earlier. “What’s going on in there?” You ask him, rubbing your hand along his right arm. 

He pulls back with a scowl, “Can’t you just hop in and find out for yourself?” He regrets his words when he sees the flash of hurt across your face.

“No, because I gave you my word I wouldn’t. And believe or not I spend 90% of the time trying to not go into other people’s heads. Talk to me, Bucky.”

“Didn’t we talk enough earlier?”

“Nope, not by a long shot. Is that what this is about? You shared more than you were comfortable with?” You try to pick up on his cues to piece together what had happened. 

“So we shared some stories. It doesn’t change anything that I know your favorite ice cream flavor.”

Things were clicking into place for you, “Ah, you forgot yourself for a minute, didn’t you? When we were sitting in there together, you let yourself relax and just exist without all the bullshit for a little while. The leg reminded you of everything else when you tried to stand.”

Bucky starts to head inside, furious you saw through him so easily. “Playing house for a few hours doesn’t change a damn thing.” 

You follow him, not letting him get off the hook so easily. “No, it doesn’t change what has happened but it does change the present. You can let what HYDRA did, what they made you do, consume you and spend the rest of your life hating everything and everyone. You have that choice. Or you could try and forge a new path, make something of your life that you can be proud of.”

“You don’t give up, do you?” Buck grumbles, settling back down on the sofa to read. 

“Nope, never. And especially not on you.” Your own words surprise you for a moment. This beautiful, complicated man had really gotten under your skin.

“You’re a real pain in my ass, mouse.” His smirk has returned and it’s like a weight has been lifted off your chest. You grin at him, sensing you had won this round, and grab a book for yourself. 

You read quietly together on the sofa until the sun slips low on the horizon and you are forced to get up and turn on your lamps. Sitting back down with your book you’re interrupted by a loud growl from Bucky’s stomach. “Are you gonna make it over there?” You ask with a raised brow.

“Hey, you’re the one who forgot to feed me lunch.” He points out.

You try and remember when you ate last and realize he’s right. You blush with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry! I tend to get distracted. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was distracted too. But now that I’m thinking about it I’m starving. What do you have around here?”

“The kitchen is full again, so whatever you want.”

“Let’s go rummage.” Bucky says with a groan as he pulls himself up. He’s stiff and a little sore from sitting around all afternoon. He follows you slowly into the kitchen. You notice he is moving even slower than usual and worry that he’s getting more sore as the day wears on. You’ll have to try and talk him into letting you take a look at his wound later. 

As you had expected, Bucky is easy going about his food choices too. You quickly fry up a mix of peppers and onions, throwing in thinly sliced chicken breast too. The herbs in your spice rack probably need changed out by now but you make do with what you have and add some more flavor to your fajita mix. The kitchen smells divine by the time you’re plating up the food and Bucky is sitting patiently at your tiny kitchen table waiting. 

“What?” You ask him with a nervous laugh. He’s watching you so intently and you wonder how long he’d been staring. 

“Nothin’, mouse. I just appreciate a home cooked meal is all.” He plays it light. He doesn’t want to admit he had been watching the way you move around the kitchen, wanting to go to you and grab you by your wide hips, pull you back against him, and press kisses along your neck. He has no business having those thoughts and that kind of thinking would have him out on his ass before he could blink. As much as Bucky hates to admit it, he doesn’t want to leave anytime soon. He’s in a losing battle with a part of himself he had assumed long dead, the part that makes him want to pull the neckline down on your baggy T-shirt and see more of the tantalizing cleavage he caught a glimpse of earlier in the day when he woke up against you in the taxi. 

You join him at the little table, setting down a bowl of meat and veggies as well as a plate of fajita wraps in between you. You start loading up your first wrap eagerly. You hadn’t been hungry until the smell of the food you hit you but now you’re starving too.

Bucky only reaches to fill his own plate once he’s sure you are done taking things for you own. He loads up his plate and takes a large bite, not even waiting for things to cool down. “Oh my god, doll.” He moans, “This is the best.” 

You smile at his enthusiasm and the endearment. “Thanks, Buck. I make this a lot so I’m glad you like it.”

“You can make this any time you want and I’ll never complain. Do you cook a lot?”

“Mostly on Sundays so I have things to grab quickly during the work week. It’s just me so I make things in batches that I won’t get tired of by Wednesday.” 

“I can help with that, if you want.” 

“With cooking?”

“Yeah. Come on, don’t look at me like that. I grew up in a house full of women, I learned from the best. I could make you the homemade spaghetti you’ve ever had.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

“Go ahead. As soon as I can ditch the crutch you’re getting my ma’s spaghetti.”

You smile across the table at him. He is so easy to get along with when he’s like this. You’re thankful for your little outdated apartment putting him at ease. The conversation lulls as you both tucked into your meals. Bucky wipes out all of the fajitas which doesn’t shock you after seeing what his breakfast had consisted of. You are going to have to go online and set up another delivery before he clears out your meager pantry. 

Carefully Bucky gets himself back up and stable enough to take his plate over to the sink. He stares at it for a minute and you realize he’s trying to figure out the logistics of washing it himself. You hop up to take it from him. “Nope, don’t even try it. You look like your leg is bothering you again and I don’t want you making it worse. Go get comfortable with your book and I’ll wash up.” 

Bucky wants to insist, his upbringing making it difficult to see you doing all the work, but his leg is bothering him more. “I’m gonna start pulling my weight as soon as this thing heals.” He assures you.

“I know, but just take it easy for now, okay?”

Bucky nods and shuffles back into the living room. A little while later you find him curled up with the book he’s been reading, a quilt thrown over his lap. He looks exhausted and you are getting there yourself. “Can I change your bandage for you?” You ask hesitantly. 

Bucky is too tired to argue and he’s worried about how things are progressing down there anyway. He had healed from bullet wounds much easier before and he wonders how much damage has been done to his leg if it’s taking so long. He nods and you get the first aid kit from your bathroom before sitting down next to him. As carefully as you can, you pull the gauze wrapping from his leg to reveal the two bullet holes on either side of his calf muscle. They are healing quickly and are down to bright glossy pink indentations. The bleeding had stopped a while ago and the tissue is repairing itself just as it should. “You should be fully healed soon. Super soldier healing is amazing.” 

“It’s something.” He concedes, “The exit wound is gonna be a permanent mess though. It’ll heal but that doesn’t stop scarring.” 

You shrug, thinking that a few more scars are inconsequential when he could have lost another limb. You wrap his leg back up with fresh gauze and rejoin him on the sofa. The two of you read in comfortable silence until you can’t keep your mind focused on the words anymore. Bucky has started nodding off too and you tap his thigh lightly trying to rouse him. 

“Hey,” you say softly, “Bedtime. Come on.”

The very sleepy super soldier hauls himself up with a hiss of pain and follows you to the bedroom. You had thought about it all day and you just can’t bring yourself to make him sleep on the sofa like you had originally planned. Your bed is big enough to share and you are both exhausted. 

“Mouse, there’s only one bed.” He says with a yawn from your doorway. 

“I can’t make you sleep out there, that sofa sucks. Get yourself ready for bed and get in. There’s plenty of room for both of us.” You tell him as you turn to grab a nightshirt and slip off to change in the bathroom. 

You come back out and wonder for a moment if maybe you should take the sofa. Bucky is down to his black undershirt and boxers, looking mouth wateringly good sitting on the edge of your bed. You force yourself to ignore the feelings the sight of him brings up for you and notice he is rubbing the skin around the metal of his left shoulder with a scowl. 

“Sore?” You guess out loud.

Bucky nods, “I wasn’t sure since we’re sharing the bed. Do you mind if I….” he trails off.

“No, of course not. Your arm doesn’t bother me, Bucky. Not how it looks or how you got it.” You approach him, gazing intently into his eyes, wanting him to really believe your words. 

“It should.” He complains but he takes off the prosthetic anyway. 

“Why? It’s just part of you.” You are emboldened by the vulnerable look in his eyes and you run your fingers along the puckered scars of his skin where it’s fused with metal. It’s softer than you expected and your eyes never leave his as your fingers stroke his skin. You move on to give the muscles above a light rub, knowing this is a safer area that he’d let you touch in the hospital when you’d caught him from falling. 

Bucky is holding unnaturally still, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as your fingers explore his skin. He wants to kill every single member of HYDRA all over again for leaving him like this. But the gentle curiosity in your eyes, the lack of any disgust or pity, has him reeling. “How do you do that?” He asks in a hushed tone.

The quietness of the late hour crashes in on you and you are suddenly very aware that you are alone in your bedroom, both only partially dressed. “Do what?” Your voice is quiet, breathy, and you barely recognize it. 

Bucky’s right hand comes up to capture yours, not moving it from his shoulder, just holding it still. “Touch the ugliest, broken parts of me like they’re the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.” 

You scream at yourself not to let any tears form and take a steadying breath. “Because they’re a part of you, and you are. You’re not broken, Bucky. You’re amazing.” 

His eyes shut and he gulps at your words. “Thank you... for today. For everything.” 

“Mmhmm.” You murmur, finally pulling your hand back. You want to kiss him so badly your insides burn but it’s too soon. He is going to hate himself in the morning for the brief tenderness you had already seen, it’s too risky to push your luck. You walk around the bed to the other side and climb in, trying to give Bucky all the space he needs. You do roll over though, to face him. He slips under the covers, keeping himself to his side of the bed, laying on his back. You’ve never had a man in this bed before but the sight of him across from you seems right somehow. Doing your best not to disturb him, you curl up in your favorite sleeping position and drift off.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are firmly into fluff territory now. Like serious, tooth rotting fluff. Ya’ll might want to see a dentist after this ;)

In the early morning light you wake to a heavy, hot weight over your waist. You’re overheated but extremely comfortable and it takes you a moment to realize the tickling on the back of your neck is from Bucky’s breath against your hair. At some point during the night you had both shifted to the center of the bed and became entwined. He has his right arm thrown around your waist and he’s lying partly on his stomach and partly around you. His head is pressed against your neck in your hair and you can’t understand how he doesn’t mind laying like that. You had your arms wrapped around his when you woke, and you are reluctant to let him go. You’re afraid to wake him and lose this perfect, warm moment but you know it’s inevitable and he will likely not be thrilled to wake up like this. You shift to roll away but his arm tightens his grasp on you. “Where ya goin’, mouse?” He asks, his Brooklyn accent thick in his semi-conscious state. 

You freeze, he is awake and not pulling away. “I have to pee.” You say honestly and pull yourself out from under him.

Your voice and movements wake him up fully and he jolts back. “I’m sorry, God, mouse, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

You shake your head, “It’s okay. Apparently we’re both cuddlers. Who knew?”

Bucky’s eyes widen at your flippant comment and you hurry to the bathroom before you die of embarrassment. You scrub at your face with a cold wash cloth, staring at your reflection for a moment. You had lost your mind, clearly. You pile your hair on top of your head in your standard messy bun and steel your nerves to go back out and face the man in your bed. 

Bucky had already gotten up and dressed. When you enter the bedroom he takes off towards the bathroom without a word. He can’t be around you for the time being, you are too soft and too beautiful in the morning light. He had been having the most wonderful dream of dancing with you in a ballroom, both hands wrapped around your waist leading your movements to a slow song. You had worn a red carnation in your hair and smiled at him like he was your whole world. When he had started waking he thought it was part of the dream. He curses himself for his foolishness. He needs to get himself together before he does something stupid and scares you off. The memory of last night and the way you had touched him has him gripping the side of the sink trying to catch his bearings. 

It’s been almost 80 years since he wanted a woman the way he wants you. After HYDRA had gotten their claws in him he’d had the singular focus of the Winter Soldier, or was on ice. There was no time for attraction or desire for sex during that time, it was just rage and fear. After Steve had helped him get out, well, he wasn’t exactly boyfriend material anymore. If his scars didn’t scare people off the permanent scowl he wore surely would. He had become a pro at keeping people at a distance and it was a hard habit to break. Bucky thinks about your words in the hospital, what did he want the rest of his life to look like? He has to admit, until he saw Steve come back aged he wasn’t sure they were capable of growing old because of the serum. The damn serum that was forever mixed with his DNA, ruining his insides the same way the HYDRA surgeons had ruined his outside. Risking a glance in the mirror he shakes his head at his reflection. He will just need to keep himself in check better, just like he does with the winter bastard rolling around in his subconscious. 

Bucky’s resolve lasts all the way to the kitchen where he finds you dancing around to some upbeat song, still wearing your night shirt which rides up your thighs a little higher every time you shimmy. He leans back against the door jam and coughs lightly so as not to startle you. You are completely unphased by his presence and send him a wide smile across the little pink and white kitchen. 

“I’m making French Toast. Your favorite, right?” You ask as you continue your movements, swaying as you coat a piece of bread with the egg mixture. You plop the soaked piece of bread in a sizzling pan and Bucky forgets every harsh reminder he had given himself only minutes before in the bathroom. 

“Yeah, mouse, that’s my favorite.” He says roughly, trying to reign himself in. “You didn’t have to-“

You cut him off before he makes excuses you don’t need, “I like it too, so it works out. Can you grab the syrup from that cupboard?” You point to the one and Bucky is quick to respond.

“Yeah, what else can I get for you?” He asks shuffling around the small kitchen the best he can with his crutch. 

“Plates are in there” you point, “And silverware is in that drawer” you point again.

“Yes, ma’am.” Bucky replies with no trace of sarcasm. 

Bucky has the table set by the time you place the first piece of toast on a platter by the stove. He looks around, wanting to stay busy while you work. “Can I get a pot of coffee started?” He offers. 

“Sure, grounds and filters are in there.”

“Thanks. Where’s the salt?”

“The salt?” You look at him incredulously.

“Yeah, to throw in with the grounds.” 

“Um, Bucky, don’t take this wrong but salt doesn’t go in coffee grounds.”

“Just you wait and see. My ma taught me this trick. It does somethin’ with the grounds, makes ‘em taste better. Less bitter. Just trust me, okay, mouse?”

You shake your head and wave your hand at him, letting him have his way. You can just make a new batch if it tastes weird. Bucky gets the coffee machine going and hops up on your kitchen countertop, sitting happily next to your work area. You’re surprised it holds the super soldier, but it seems stable. He swings his legs a little, happily watching you work. His cheerfulness is unnerving and you feel the creeping of a blush starting in your chest and working its way up your cheeks. You wish Bucky could be like this all the time, but you know he can’t ignore his issues forever and you need to make the most of these carefree moments when they happen. 

Having him so close while you cook is comforting and you place a hand on his thigh before you realize what you’re doing. Bucky’s eyes widen and his lips part in surprise. You pull your hand away as if you had placed it on the stove instead of him, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I-I-I’m so sorry.” You stutter, wishing the floor would open up into a void that you could fling yourself into. 

Bucky ambles down from the countertop to go check on the coffee which is doing just fine on its own. He also needs to readjust things. Bucky feels like a teenager again, unable to control his body’s responses to a pretty girl. It’s difficult for him to hide his reaction behind his fitted black jeans but he does his best to think of every disgusting thing he can to wipe any remaining lust from his system. 

You almost burn the next piece of toast, turning it just in time before it goes from just really dark to charred. You can’t shake the feel of Bucky’s thigh beneath your hand from your mind. It was so wide, thickly muscled, and powerful. You force your wayward mind to stop conjuring up imaginings of those thighs against other parts of your body, trying to get a grip on yourself. You cool off while making the last few pieces and then join Bucky at the table with the giant pile of French Toast. He’s sipping his coffee with a satisfied smile, clearly ready to gloat. 

“Just like my ma used to make it.” He says with a flourish as he hands you the cup. 

You roll your eyes but accept the offered cup, taking a sip of the salted coffee. To your surprise there isn’t even a hint of salt in the brew. It’s strong and rich, definitely better than when you normally make it, and you want to smack the smug look off Bucky’s face. “Damnit.” You grumble as you take another long sip.

Bucky laughs and it’s a harsh, almost dorky sound, seeming to have burst out before he could control it. You try not to snort your coffee through your nose and hold back the laughter bubbling up in your throat. Bucky’s cheeks tinged red, embarrassed at his outburst. 

“Thank you, Bucky.” You concede, raising your cup to him.

“You’re very welcome, mouse. Thanks for cooking again.” He takes four pieces of toast and starts dousing them with syrup. You try not to make a face, still unable to believe the way he eats. You pick two pieces off the plate for yourself, giving them a slight drizzle of syrup and then dig in. The coffee is good enough to go back for seconds and you catch Bucky’s pleased grin out of the corner of your eye. He polishes off eight pieces before pushing himself back from the table with a sigh. “A man can get used to this.” He teases. 

“Oh really? Well, as soon as man is feeling better he can get used to doing dishes too.” You sass back.

“Oh come on, mouse. You know I’m gonna help you once I’m back on both feet. I’m gonna cook for you, I’ll do the dishes, take care of the laundry, whatever you need. Just gimme another day to rest up.” 

“I know you’re good for it, no worries.” You get up to take care of the dishes, trying to keep your mind busy before it goes to all the other places you would like Bucky’s help. 

Bucky places his hand over your wrist, stilling your movement, “Seriously, mouse. I can’t repay you for taking me in like this. I know I’m a pain in the ass, and I’m gonna triple your grocery bill, but I really appreciate it.” The genuine gratefulness in his eyes stops you in your tracks even more than the contact of his hand on your wrist. Your brain struggles to come up with an appropriate response but all you come up with is “Any time.” It’s trite and you hate the sound of your voice. You force yourself to break the contact before you do something stupid like pull him against your chest and kiss him senseless. It’s barely 9am and you already know it’s going to be a long day.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This installment is a game changer. And the very end had me squeeing while writing it. I hope you all squee along too!

By noon you have run out of chores to keep yourself busy and you finally join Bucky who is reading a new book in the living room. You had just called the therapy center you work at and let them know you would be available to start the following week. You want to give Bucky a chance to settle into your world before you dive back into work. 

“So… I go back to work next week.” You tell him as you take a seat on the other end of the sofa. 

Bucky looks up from his book, a look of surprise on his face. “Okay, mouse. I’ll be fine here when you’re out.” 

“Actually, I was thinking you could come with me.”

“To the therapy center? I still don’t know about that. You forget that millions of people still want me locked up for life or worse. I don’t want to go in there and make it harder for people who are already having a rough go of it.”

“Who says anyone will even recognize you?” 

Bucky waves his metal arm at you and points to the red star on the upper part of it. “Even if they didn’t recognize my face the arm is kinda obvious. There’s a reason most of my wardrobe is long sleeves.” 

“Okay, I’ll give you that. But I want you to think about the dozens of returning war vets we see every week. The guys who could really use someone to talk to who knows what it’s like to be in the military and in combat. We get the occasional ex-cult members too. Girls who have been brainwashed for years and just want to get their lives back. I’m not asking you to go in and start telling these people your life story, I’m just asking you to go be available to listen to them if they want to talk. Not as a therapist but as someone who gets what they’re going through.” 

“How would that even work though? And don’t you want someone who has their shit together a little bit better to be interacting with these people?”

“You do have your shit together or you wouldn’t be sitting here with me. Stop downplaying your progress because you’re not where you want to be. And it works with the staff we have so far. We have two domestic abuse survivors, one former Air Force private, and a girl who grew up in the system. It’s just an option for our patients to hang out a little and talk to someone who understands them. The people who do, end up having much more successful therapy sessions later on.”

“I just don’t know…” 

“Well, you have ‘til 7:30 on Monday to decide but I think it’ll be good for you. And the center.”

“Good for me? Sorry mouse, I’m not gonna just start going to therapy because I’m there all day.”

“I’m not asking you to. I meant that it’ll give you something to do. Something productive and rewarding. It’s part of how I cope with the more difficult missions. I help people and it makes me feel like less of a monster for doing what needs done sometimes.” 

Bucky looks like he’s on the verge of screaming or crying, intensely frustrated but trying to keep himself under control. “There is no atoning for everything I’ve done though. How can you not see that?”  
“Because you don’t know that. You can only do your best and try. So what do you want to do?” You are pushing harder on this than you meant to but you’re on a roll, “You can hide out here reading books, keeping away from the world, waiting for me to come home every night. Or you can actually live, and come along with me, and make a real, positive difference in people's lives. What do you want Bucky?” 

Bucky makes an exasperated noise in his throat. “I want a lot of things, none of which I can have.” 

“Like what?”

“Too many things.” 

You move across the sofa so you’re kneeling next to him, hovering just the slightest bit over him, making sure he understands you’re not backing down on this. “That’s not an answer.” 

His eyes are blazing when he lifts his head to stare you down. You want to run, to apologize for pushing too hard too soon, but something keeps you in place just a beat longer. “What are you so afraid of wanting, Bucky?” You place your hand on the bicep of his metal arm, trying to keep him from bolting. 

But he can’t run. Your touch, and the genuine concern in your voice are his undoing. A tortured sound breaks free from his chest and the super soldier seems to collapse in on himself. He pulls at his hair, scrubs his hands over his face futilely, unable to handle all the emotions bubbling up. “I want what Steve got.” He whispers. 

His words echo painfully in your chest, I want what Steve got. You school your reaction and let him process the emotions coming up in his own time.

This is the first time Bucky really lets himself admit it, that he wants something for himself. The tears come and he wishes he could hold them back but in the moment he can’t. The loss of his freedom back in the war, losing his arm, the wipes and time on ice, the brainwashing, the torture, the constant gnawing feeling of being hated for what feels like good reasons. It all comes crashing down until he can’t breathe anymore. The loss of Steve is still so fresh and it makes it harder to keep his emotions in their tidy, neglected box. 

Your heart breaks when his tears start falling. You just wanted to get him to make a decision for his life instead of staying stagnant from fear and self loathing. You know there is nothing you can do but be there for him while he shatters so you throw your arms around him and wait. After several painfully quiet minutes Bucky’s sobs subside and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to him. You can feel the wetness through your night shirt, his tears not yet stopped, so you started running a hand through his hair soothingly. Eventually he looks up at you with questioning eyes, searching you for any trace of disgust or pity and still he finds none. You brush a long lock of brown hair out of his eyes and give him a half smile, glad he is calming down a little more. 

Bucky holds you tightly, still not willing to let you go. “I know what I want, mouse.” His voice is low and raw.

“What is it?” You ask quietly.

“I want… God knows I don’t deserve it but… I want you.” 

Your heart is hammering in your chest like it had grown wings. It’s hard to form words as your mind swims with reasons to pull back and even more reasons to give in. “I’m yours.” You tell him before your brain can catch up with your heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thanks for all the love this story has been getting so far. I never expected so many people to be following and enjoying it. I’m eternally grateful for all the kuddos and comments. Seriously, I love ya’ll <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WOW there was so much love for the ending of the last chapter, both here and over on Tumblr. Now that we're all done screaming, let’s see where things go in the wake of your confessions…

Bucky’s face lights up like the sun. He moves his right hand up your side and cups your cheek tenderly in his palm. “Yeah?”

You nod against his hand, “Yeah.” 

Bucky doesn’t hesitate, he pulls you gently down to him, his lips brushing against yours. Your breath catches in your throat and your body trembles against his. The times you had imagined anything happening between you two it was always raw and frenzied. Nothing could have prepared you for the sweetness of these first few kisses. You match his pace, not wanting to hurry him, just enjoying how his body floods your senses. His scent is clouding your thoughts; he smells like a forest in the dead of night, clean, piney, and just a little wild. There is still a faint taste of tears on his lips but his eyes are dry at last. You shiver at the cool metal of his left hand caressing your hip where your nightshirt has ridden up. It isn’t your first kiss ever, but it makes every single one before it pale in comparison. You happily lose yourself in him, letting your body follow where he leads without a second thought. 

Bucky is drowning in you. He’s unused to relinquishing control and just letting himself feel but with your soft skin pressed against him and the sweet taste of your lips brushing against his, he is a goner. You taste like summer rain and peaches, and he can’t get enough. He wonders fleetingly if even a lifetime of this would be enough. Bucky deliberately keeps the pace slow, not wanting to miss a moment of this. The way your body responds so naturally to his is incredible and he loves how in sync you are to his movements. He knows he needs to pull back and stop before things escalate further but every time he thinks to pull away he just dives in for more. Finally, desperate for air, he leans his lips away and rests his forehead against yours. 

“Wow” you murmur.

“Wow” he echoes and you grin like a kid on Christmas. “You okay there, mouse?”

You nod lightly against his forehead, “Better than fine.” 

“Me too. I don’t know how I ever got so lucky as to find you, mouse.” He moves you so you are sitting across his lap, tucked in against his chest. He wants to be able to look down at you and appreciate how you beautiful you look; your lips swollen from his kisses, cheeks reddened where his beard brushed against them. 

“I know exactly what you did.” you tell him, “You asked for what you wanted, and you got it.” 

Bucky chuckles, “That simple, huh? Well, I’m gonna start asking for things a lot more often.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

“Another kiss for starters.”

You giggle and kiss him again, deeper this time. “See, that easy.” 

“Oh man, I was missing out. I’m gonna be asking for foot rubs, breakfast in bed, and a dog next.” 

You laugh harder, squirming in his lap. “Oh, no!” You cry with fake concern between giggles, “I’ve created a monster.” As soon as the word monster leaves your mouth you regret it. Bucky is still smiling but you notice the slight twitch of his left eye at the word. “Bucky… I… I didn’t mean it like….”

Bucky gives you a quick kiss, “I know you didn’t, doll. It’s alright. But I’m absolutely going to keep asking for things.” 

“Good, you should.” You say relieved he isn’t offended by your poor word choice. 

Bucky pulls his phone out and started texting quickly. “I’m gonna start by asking that damn raccoon for my arm back.”

“What?” You ask, extremely confused.

“Do you know Rocket? He’s not actually a raccoon, just looks like one. He’s part of Quill’s team, the Guardians of something?” 

“I’ve heard of him but we haven’t met.”

“Well, I gave the furry bastard my good arm before I left for Somalia. He’d been jonesing for it since Wakanda and since I hadn’t planned on coming back I thought I’d hook him up. I meant to text him yesterday, I’m gonna need that thing back.”

“You have different prosthetic arm? Why? Is it better?”

“Oh, mouse, it’s the best. Shuri, T’Challa’s sister, made it for me a few years ago. It’s made of vibranium so it’s virtually indestructible and the tech in it is light years ahead of anything else. She has it set up so it reacts as fast as I can think and the sensors are almost as good as really feeling something again. I’ll know if something is hot or cold, soft or rough. I couldn’t believe it when she gave it to me.”

“That’s incredible. I can’t believe you parted with it, that was really kind of you.”

“He’s a good guy. Anyway, where can he send it to? I know you don’t want anyone having this address.”

“Have him send it to Fury. He’ll get it to us here.”

“Thanks, doll.” He places a kiss on your cheek and is texting quickly again. “Okay, he’ll have it to Fury today or tomorrow. They haven’t left earth yet and can swing by SHIELD before they leave.” 

“I’ll give Fury a heads up to overnight it to us.” You offer. 

“Mmm, you’re the best.” He lays his head next to yours on your shoulder and holds you for a moment, unwilling to let you go just yet. “So what are we going to do today?” 

“How’s your leg doing? I wanted to go down and visit the lambs that were born while I was away. They’re bigger now but still fun at this age.” 

“I’ll hold up alright. The crutch really isn’t that bad. If you want to go out, we can.” 

“We can head back if you start getting sore. Just tell me, okay?”

“I will, mouse. I can’t wait to be rid of this thing, I won’t push it.” 

“Good.” You reach out to brush your thumb against his cheek, feeling the softness of his beard in your palm. It’s distracting being so close to him. “Come on, before we spend the whole day on the sofa.” 

Bucky grumbles playfully but stands up with you. He tests his weight for a moment before grabbing his crutch. “I think I’m almost done with this thing.” 

You watch him lean a little more on his right side, he doesn’t seem to be in any pain. “That’s great. Maybe you can try a little more later if you’re still doing okay.”

“I’m gonna change the bandage and check on it before we head out.”

“Okay, I need to get dressed first anyway.”

You slip away to get changed in your room and take a minute for your brain to catch up with the last half hour. You are ecstatic and nervous; very ready to start something with him but you worry it won’t be the easiest of roads. It doesn’t really matter though, it’s all worth it. Bucky is finally figuring out what he wants for himself, and right now, by some miracle, it’s you.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this part was just a bit of fun for me. I was plotting out the logistics of what it would be like for Bucky to really settle down and one of things that I couldn’t get out of my head (or stop laughing at) was the idea of Bucky having to do every day things, like go to Target. So please enjoy another fluffy installment (with a bit of super sweetness thrown in at one point) with our boy getting better at asking for things and taking a trip to Target.

You are brushing your teeth when Bucky comes up behind you in the bathroom. You raise an eyebrow at him in the mirror, your mouth full of minty foam.

“Hey mouse,” he says placing his hands on your hips, “I need to ask for something else.”

You spit your toothpaste out and wipe your mouth, “What?”

“Toothbrush.” He smiles staring at the one in your hand.

You roll your eyes, “You’re lucky I’m not a germaphobe. Here, take mine and we’ll go into town later to get you one of your own. But only if your leg is holding up.”

Eyes sparkling he pops your brush in your mouth, “Still tastes like you.” he says with a cheeky grin, “Thanks, mouse.”

You swat him with a hand towel, trying not to laugh at his antics, and head out to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

You feel him approach you before you hear him. Damn super soldier spy could sneak like no other. He is wrapping his arms around your waist before you can even register he is there. You squeak in surprise and feel his chest vibrate against your back as he chuckles. 

“So, I think we need to get some supplies if I’m gonna stay here.” he says against your neck, refusing to let you go. 

“We can go into town now if you want.” you offer, leaning back into his warmth. It’s funny how quickly you had both had gone from reigning in your desire for affection to barely keeping apart.

“Your thing first. Let’s go see some lambs.” 

Whether Bucky is willing to admit it to himself or not, he really is just a big old softy at heart. The pair of you sit in the pasture where the herd is grazing, watching the lambs play and giving them lots of attention when they come over to you. They are well socialized thanks to Martha and Chris so the eight lambs come over frequently for petting and treats. Bucky seems so relaxed on the farm and it’s good to see him smiling and laughing a little. His face is adorable when he smiles and it’s almost impossible to think that he usually spends most of his time with a permanent scowl. Eventually the herd is ready to move on and you take that as your cue to head out.

Bucky eyes your old beat up Subaru Forester with a look of suspicion and you glare at him. “This is the best car ever made so wipe that look off your face, Barnes.” you warn him.

Reluctantly he holds his hands up in defeat, “Okay, mouse, whatever you say. As long as it won’t get us killed to and from the store I’m good.”

You roll your eyes and head out towards town.

Bucky is amusing to watch as you wind through the woods to the closest main town. He is extremely attentive and you have a feeling it isn’t just his ingrained training, it is genuine curiosity too. You start pointing out places as you go to help him familiarize himself with your world and you can all but hear him taking mental notes. By the time you travel through town and out to the Target, Bucky is starting to tense up. His eyes have little crinkles along the sides, lips pursed in an annoyed frown. His stress is evident and you aren’t sure you can do anything to alleviate it.

“Do you not want to go in? You don’t have to, just let me know what you need and I’ll grab it.” You say trying to help.

Bucky shakes his head, “No, I’ll go in. Gimme a sec, mouse.” He pulls a hair tie out of his pocket and binds his hair into a bun at the nape of his neck, the hat he’s been holding in his lap gets secured on his head, and a leather glove is slipped over his metal hand. It’s still too warm for the long sleeves he’s wearing but you understand his need for discretion and appreciate it for your sake as well. 

Seeing the James Buchanan Barnes in a Target is like seeing a unicorn on a jet ski. Your brain takes a moment to take in the sight and you have to suppress your amusement. You lead him through to the toiletries assuming that’s what he had meant, he hasn’t specified what things he needs and he hasn’t uttered a word since entering the brightly lit store. Bucky stands in the isle looking from side to side at all of the options and you realize it’s unlikely he’s been in store like this before. You feel badly for your out of place soldier for a moment, he has probably had hundreds of moments like this over the past decade and you think it has to be frustrating. “What are you looking for, babe?” the endearment slips out before you realize it and Bucky’s head snaps up to look at you with wide eyes and an even wider smile. 

His cheeks tinge pink for a moment before he clears his throat to respond. “Just shampoo, something normal with conditioner too maybe. But, uh, should I get the little travel size or the bigger bottle?” He looks at you and you realize he’s asking about more than shampoo. 

“Oh.” you say, understanding what he’s asking. “Well, that’s up to you. But I wouldn’t mind if you got the bigger bottle.” Your heart is pounding, he wants to know if he can stay with you for a while. Long enough to warrant several months worth of shampoo. 

A ghost of an expression crosses Bucky’s face, caught between relief and reverence, “Okay, mouse. I’ll get the bigger bottle.” The moment is heavy, it’s like the world has collapsed around the two of you. You should have expected this intensity from him, he is the type of man who does nothing lightly. It’s amazing to you though, how he can zoom the world in to just the two of you, even standing in the middle of Target. You shake yourself out of it, “If you want, I have a really nice conditioner at home. It’s not overly scented or anything so we could share.” you offer.

Bucky shakes his head, “Don’t go wasting your good stuff on me. I’m fine with the same generic crap I’ve been using forever.” 

“It’s not wasting it. Especially if I get to enjoy running my hands through your hair afterwards.”

“Ah, that’s why you want me to use it. You like this, mouse?” he gives his little bun a tug. You give him a quick grin and nod. “Good.” he smiles back and tosses a bottle of shampoo in the cart. He scrubs at his beard thoughtfully, “Now, I’m gonna need something to tame this if I’m gonna be around for a while.” He slips his gloved hand into yours and you lead him along, pushing the cart one handed but managing because you don’t want to lose the connection to him. 

It takes longer than you expect, moving through the store. Bucky gets all the basics he needs plus an armful of clothes. You can’t imagine him buying clothes there but he finds things that suit him and loads them in. Part of you wonders why he doesn’t just have someone send him things from the Avengers compound but you don’t push it. At the registers you go to pull out your card to pay but he puts his hand over yours, “I got this, mouse.” You shoot him a questioning look but he pulls a thin wallet out of his back pocket and produces a matte black credit card which he inserts into the credit card machine. “Pepper will probably wonder if the card was stolen.” he jokes. You didn’t think he would have his own card since he was so opposed to being paid for missions but it makes sense he would have something to pay for whatever might come up. 

“How’s the leg holding up?” you ask him on the way back to the car. He’s moving better than he had since before he was shot but you can’t be sure he’s not hurting.

“I’m good, probably won’t need the crutch by tomorrow. Did you want to make another stop?”

“Only if you’re sure. I just thought it would be easier to stop and get groceries since we’re right next door and it shouldn’t be too busy right now.”

“Perfect, I can get what I need to make you dinner tomorrow. Lead the way, mouse.” 

You are surprised he’s so determined to cook you dinner the second he’s back on both feet but it’s endearing and you don’t complain. The grocery shopping goes faster than Target, neither one of you are picky eaters and are willing to try anything the other suggests. Bucky insists on paying the bill there as well, much to your frustration. You just hope he doesn’t get in trouble for all the spending he’s done.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, our boy survived the trip to Target and now it’s time to really settle in. We’ve had our two main characters dancing around each other for 17 chapters and I think I’ve drug things on enough… it’s time for some lemons. Please know I am grinning ear to ear as I post this because even though it’s just a small lemon, I really love it. Prepare yourselves lovelies…. Bucky Barnes is a *talker*.

Back at your apartment Bucky stares at his bags on the bed while you put away groceries in the kitchen. He’s not used to this domesticity, having to share space with someone. He doesn’t know how to do this and the thought that he wants to learn frightens him a little. Looking at all the things he picked up it feels like he’s rebuilt himself a brand new life here with you. Bucky knows he’s overthinking it but he can’t stop himself. You find him in there some time later, lost in thought. You press a hand to his arm, getting his attention. Bucky starts a little and looks at you, lost and waiting for you to help steer him in the right direction. “I don’t…. I don’t know how to do this.” he says motioning towards the piles of stuff on the bed. 

“Me neither.” you tell him honestly, “But I want to figure it out, with you.”

Bucky pulls you against him, burying his face in your neck. “Me too.” he says whisper soft against your skin. 

And together you do. Slowly you start moving your belongings around to make room for his. It’s surprising how easily his things fit in around yours and your heart softens at the sight of his toothbrush sitting next to yours. He has his own dresser drawers for his clothes, his shampoo and soap have their own shelf in the shower, and he even pulled out the picture of him and Steve from his duffle to put on his nightstand. 

You never expected to have this in your life. Your ability makes it hard to connect with people in a normal way and you were always slightly on edge, not knowing if or when you’d be called out for another mission. It makes sense, you muse to yourself, that only someone involved in this life would be able to fit into yours. He knows you are retired now but you wonder if he will be called away at any moment. He’s made no indication that he plans to take another job anytime soon but there’s always that risk, especially for an Avenger. 

You find Bucky taking a few tentative steps across the living room without the crutch and you marvel at how quickly he’s healed from such an intense injury. The grin on his face when he sees you makes your heart skip a beat, he’s happy, genuinely happy. In your little apartment out in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania, with you. You decide that it doesn’t matter if you are rushing things, you want him in your world. Regardless of how long he stays or how wrecked your heart might get in the process, it’s going to be worth it. 

“How’s it feel?” you ask him.

Bucky takes a few more steps until he’s back to the sofa, “Not too bad. Still sore but it’s manageable.” 

“Good. I’m still amazed by how quickly you heal.” You join him on the sofa and reach for your book but Bucky pulls you against him so you’re laying against his chest across his lap. “Whoa, careful, I’m heavy.” you protest.

Bucky quirks an eyebrow at you, “You are not too heavy to sit on top of me. Super soldier, remember?” 

“I know, but still. I’m not exactly a tiny woman.” 

“Mouse, you are at least a foot shorter than me.” 

You groan, he’s intentionally taking your words wrong. “Bucky, you know what I mean.”

“Nope, not at all. You are absolutely perfect sitting here on top of me. I could toss you like a baseball if I needed to.” 

“Yeah, okay.” you roll your eyes at him. 

“Are you doubting my super strength, doll? Because I’ll have you know Steve once stopped a helicopter from taking off with his bare hands. And between you and me, I’ve always been stronger than Steve.” Bucky’s smile fades with a subtle sadness brought on by the thought of his friend but he doesn’t seem to be dwelling on it.

“Braggart.” you tease him. 

“You know it.” His grin returns and he reaches for the remote to flip on the television. “So tell me, mouse, what should we not watch this afternoon?” 

You laugh at Bucky’s cockiness and help him select a movie to put on. He likes sci-fi movies and you settle for a classic from the 80’s he’s never seen. Bucky was right about not watching the movie, you only last twenty minutes until his hands trailing across your body become too distracting. He’s an incredible tease and you squirm in his lap at the light contact of his fingers brushing across your sides. Bucky wraps his metal arm around your waist and uses his right arm to roll you both over so you’re lying on the sofa, under him. You can’t stop how your breathing quickens with him over top of you. He’s a wall of pure muscle and is throwing off body heat like a furnace. 

Bucky runs his right hand from your hip up to your breast and you tremble under his touch, a little gasp escaping your throat as he runs his thumb right across your nipple. His eyes are burning with lust when he dips his mouth down to trail kisses from the tops of your breasts that peek out of your shirt, up your throat. You moan lightly when his mouth sucks against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck and Bucky’s hips grind against your thighs instinctively at the sound. His pulls back, breathing as heavy as you are now, “Those noises are killin’ me, doll.” he says with a groan.

“I’m sorry.” you blurt out. 

Bucky chuckles, “Don’t be, it’s just makin’ it hard for me to take this slow. I don’t wanna rush you, doll.” 

“You’re not. I want…” you trail off and blush. He’s so close to your face, his body plastered against yours. It’s intensely intimate in a way you’ve never experienced before. 

Bucky’s grin is cheshire, “What do you want, mouse?” 

“Whatever you’ll give me.” you tell him honestly. 

“Oh, mouse, I want to give you all sorts of things. But we don’t have to rush. Do you know what I want?”

You shake your head quickly, very interested in where his mind is going. 

“I want… your name.” Bucky peppers your chest and throat with small kisses, “Your real name, mouse. So I know what to call out later when I come.” 

You are certain you’ve blushed yourself into a deep shade of scarlet that’s never been seen before. You remind yourself to breath as you maintain eye contact with him. His eyes never waiver, he just waits patiently for your answer. You give him your name and his eyes close for a moment like he’s savoring it. He says it a few times as he kisses you deeply, testing the feel of it across his lips. You don’t think you’ve ever heard it said so passionately before and it makes your toes curl. 

“You tell me to stop if I go too far, okay? I just wanna feel you, mouse, make you feel good.” Bucky says, and you nod. You know he’d respect you and stop if you asked and it helps you relax a little as his right hand slips inside your jeans. He toys with the waistband of your panties, running two fingers between them and your skin. You try not to squirm but find it almost impossible. Bucky loves watching your face as he touches you, even though he’s sure it unnerves you a little. Your eyes are so expressive and he loves seeing you react to him. He brings his hand over top your panties first, cupping you and stroking you gently. Your body jerks beneath him involuntarily and you gasp. 

“Doin’ okay, doll?” he asks as he toys with the waistband of your panties again. His Brooklyn accent thickens as he loses himself to his arousal and you love the rough sound of it. You nod, unable to form real words as you pant beneath him. Bucky finally ventures underneath your panties and strokes your naked sex with his long fingers. He groans as he parts your folds and feels how slick you already are. “Oh, doll. You are so perfect. Oh, Jesus. So wet for me already.” He continues running his fingers across the sensitive area before dipping just the tip of one finger inside you. “Fuck.” he groans again. “You okay with this?” he asks and you nod again. “Oh, thank you, doll. I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.” His tone is caught between relief, reverence, and desperation, and it makes you smile so wide your cheeks ache. 

You note to yourself with amusement that Bucky Barnes is quite the talker when he’s riled up. He can’t seem to keep quiet and you are starting to find you enjoy it. You thought you hated dirty talk but Bucky’s endless stream-of-consciousness rambling is turning you on even more than you already were. You’re broken out of your thoughts when Bucky plunges two long, thick fingers inside you, curling them upwards once fully inside. Your body rocks beneath him, overwhelmed at the sensation. He moves them in and out gently, curling as he goes and you feel like you’re going to combust from the pleasure. Bucky adjusts his hand so the heel of his palm is rubbing against your clit as he thrust his fingers. You shake uncontrollably and turn your head to the side, unable to contain yourself. You can feel Bucky’s hard length against your thigh as he grinds against you in rhythm with the movement of his hand. He’s rock solid and even between both of your jeans you can feel how long and wide he is. Every so often his body trembles too and you think he must be working himself as well while he brings you closer and closer to your release.

Bucky continues to kiss your throat and the tops of your breasts as his hand works your sex. “Go ahead, sweetheart, let yourself go. I want to feel you come around my fingers.” he coaxes you and you’re teetering on the brink of an orgasm. Your breaths are rapid and shallow, you can’t control the gasps and moans which are constant now as he gets you right on the edge of where he wants you. Your hips thrust back against his hand, increasing the pressure of him against your thigh as well. He grunts and speeds up his motions. “Come on, sweetheart. Come for me.” he all but begs. You grip your hands onto his shoulders and cry out his name as the orgasm wracks your body. You writhe against him as he draws out the orgasm longer than you thought possible and you hear him groan loudly, “Oh fuck. Fuck, doll. Oh…” his body shudders and he gasps out your name as he goes rigid for a moment and collapses, barely stopping to support himself in time so he doesn’t crush you. 

After a moment of catching his breath he gently slips his fingers out of you and brings them up to his mouth. With a deviant smile he pops them in his mouth, savoring the taste of you on his fingers. “You’re so sweet, doll. Like honey.” he tells you. 

You turn your head to the side again, avoiding his gaze. “Bucky…” you whine his name, it’s slightly embarrassing and you blush hard.

“Alright, alright.” he complies and pulls himself off of you to sit upright on the sofa. You sit up next to him, a satisfied grin on your face. He shifts uncomfortably and you notice the large, wet, stain all down the left leg of his jeans. 

“Oh.” is all you manage to say and you know you’re staring. 

Bucky chuckles at your reaction, “What can I say, doll. You got me all worked up too.” He stands, testing his weight on his right leg before he takes a step with his crutch. “I’m gonna go clean up if you want to pick a new movie. Maybe one we’ll actually watch.” 

“I was going to start lunch first.” you tell him.

“Good thinking, mouse. We got all that lunch meat today if you wanna make sandwiches.”

“Okay” you nod and Bucky heads off to the bedroom.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonight’s installment is just pure, unadulterated, domestic fluff. Our boy is settling in and making good on his promise to take care of you. Enjoy!

It was good timing Bucky had bought extra clothes earlier, the ones he’d brought all need washed and he hadn’t expected things to turn out the way they did on the sofa. You are one lucky son of bitch, Barnes, he thinks to himself. He makes plans to do a load of laundry for you after lunch. He would probably need to be shown how to use the machine but he wants to do the simple chore for you. He was serious when he told you that he wanted to do everything for you. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, whatever you need. He’d even go to the stupid therapy center with you if it would make you happy. It was like you had resurrected that primal, protective part of him and he was surprised to find he still had it within him. He understands now on a visceral level why Tony had always been so overprotective and doting on Pepper, and what made Steve go back in time to live out his life with Peggy. It’s humbling and he mulls over the new emotions as he scrubs himself clean and slides into a new pair of black sweatpants. 

Bucky finds you in the kitchen, piling a large hunk of french bread full of various types of meat for him. He leans down, resting his head on your shoulder and you turn to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, doll.” he purrs in your ear and you shiver at his hot breath. You expected to be less worked up around him after having fooled around not even ten minutes earlier but it apparently had the opposite effect. Now that you've had a taste of his passion you are craving it. It was going to be hard to let him finish healing and get lots of rest when all you wanted to do was get naked with him. You hand him his plate and start compiling your own sandwich. He doesn’t budge for a moment and the long exhale he makes is ripe with contentment. You giggle and nudge him with your shoulder, “Go eat, you need to be resting so you can heal.” With a petulant grumble and a kiss against your neck he finally retreats to the living room with his plate. You follow him out with yours and then go back for two glasses of iced tea. Bucky is flipping through the Netflix offerings and finally settles on a classic musical. 

“Have you seen Rent before?” you ask as you join him on the sofa.

“Not the whole thing but I saw a bit of the beginning a while ago and it looked good.” he tells you.

“It is. I didn’t think you’d be into musicals.”

“Why not? I told you, mouse, I like a little of everything. I’m really not picky about anything.” 

You shrug and try not to analyze his ambivalence too hard. The therapist in you points out that it’s likely he’s too relieved to be out of HYDRA’s clutches and not in imminent danger that he appreciates everything because it’s better than the decades of ice and torture that defined two thirds of his life. A sick feeling starts to form in the pit of your stomach, considering that it very likely applies to his affections towards you too, but you brush it away. You refuse to taint your time together with the thought that his feelings for you are anything less than genuine. If you’re wrong then you’ll willingly deal with the fall out of it later but you can’t risk the chance to be with him on unfounded worrying. Bucky scoots over to sit next to you while he eats, resting his shoulder against yours and you give him a quick smile as you start on your own. No matter what happens, you silently remind yourself, this was definitely worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky’s leg does start getting more sore as the day wears on and he abandons his plans for laundry until the next day. You remind him he’s still healing and relegate him to the sofa for the rest of the day, playing cards and reading quietly. He promises himself he’ll take care of you as soon as he’s able and accepts your doting on him with slow smiles and soft kisses of appreciation.

Bucky wakes up the next morning with only the smallest of aches in leg and he can’t wait to get moving unencumbered. Without the crutch he’ll have full use of his right arm again and he debates if he wants to bother putting his prosthetic on if you’re just staying home. He never used it unless he had to during the years he lived in Wakanda and knows he doesn’t really need it for most things. He looks at you sleeping next to him and tries to stifle down his concerns over you seeing him without it all day. You had been so accepting of him so far and he can’t truly imagine you will be put off by the stump. He presses a light kiss on your forehead as you sleep deeply on top of him. The two of you had wrapped yourselves together again in your sleep and he muses he can get very used to waking up this way. 

Bucky carefully extracts himself from your limbs and out of bed. He wants to spend more time in bed with you but the idea of waking you up with breakfast gets his butt in gear. Bucky is actually a very good cook, he just hasn’t had a lot of time to explore the talent lately. Growing up the oldest child of four, with three younger sisters and a mother who worked meant he made, or helped with, most of the meals for the family to lessen the burden on his ma. He loved doing it and found with practice he could master almost anything. Back in the 30’s Steve had even started hanging around most nights in hopes of being included in the large dinners Bucky and his ma would whip up. He was thankful most of his skills had returned when he took the time to cook for himself in his hut in Wakanda. Bucky had spent a lot of time reteaching himself things so he could work with only his right hand, and found after practice he had no difficulties. 

Bucky quickly pulls out the ingredients for omelets and gets a pan heating on the stove. He hears you stirring in bed as the eggs hit the hot pan and he listens as you get up and make your way out to find him, following the noise of him cooking. “Hey babe” you yawn from the doorway. 

“Mornin’ doll.” he replies without pausing his prep work. “Grab a seat, I’m almost done.” 

You sit down at the little table, slowly waking up and becoming mesmerized by the sight of a shirtless Bucky Barnes moving quickly around your kitchen. His movements are so typically him, no motion wasted, the epitome of efficiency. You notice he’s not wearing his metal arm and hope the choice is out of comfort and not because it’s hurting him. He lets the omelet rest under a lid on your plate for a moment and you wonder what he’s doing but he distracts you by bringing you a cup of coffee. You are not entirely sure you are actually awake as he stands in front of you with his rippled muscles on clear display, his black sweats hanging low on his hips, and his shaggy hair falling all mussed around his shoulders. Your mouth goes dry as you accept the cup from him robotically. “You okay, there mouse?” he asks with a smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you and is enjoying himself thoroughly. 

You nod and make a small sound of ascent before sipping your coffee. It tastes just as good as yesterday and you know you’ll never go back to making it without a pinch of salt. Bucky grabs your plate and adds a slice of french bread slathered with butter and peach jam to it. He hands the plate to you and gets back to working on his own. You take a bite of the omelet which you find has cheese and diced vegetables as well as thin strips of ham. It’s impressive how he got the cheese to melt so perfectly without overcooking the egg. You make a note to ask him about that lid trick later suspecting it has something to do with it. But for the moment you just let your eyes roll back in your head and enjoy. 

You hear Bucky’s chuckle and give him a look. “What?” you ask.

Bucky shakes his head, “Nothin’. You’re enjoying your breakfast?”

“Yes, definitely. It’s really good, babe. Thank you for doing this, you really didn’t have to.” 

“I told you I’d take care of you, mouse. I’m starting a load of laundry after this too.”

“No, Bucky, seriously you don’t have to do that.” you shift in your seat, a little uncomfortable with him doing everything for you in your own home. You are a nurturer by nature and having the tables turned on you is an odd feeling. 

Bucky sets his plate down and gets himself a cup of coffee before joining you at the table. 

“Seriously,” you reiterate, “It’s sweet but you don’t have to do everything on the first day you’re back on your feet. I don’t want you making it worse again.”

“Nah, it’s completely healed. I even took the bandages off this morning. I’m all good, mouse.”

You worry he’s being overly confident, “Okay, but is your arm bothering you?” you motion to his left side with your fork. 

“Oh, no, it’s not.” he gulps, worrying for a fleeting moment but stamping the emotion back down, “I had gotten used to just leaving it off most of the time unless I actually needed both hands for something. Without the crutch my right arm is freed up again, so... I hope you don’t mind.” 

“No, I don’t mind at all. I was just worried it might have been bothering you and you’re trying to do all this stuff around the apartment for me.” 

Bucky lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, he should have known it didn’t matter to you. He sends up a silent thank you to whoever is listening that he has been thrown into your life. “Nah, I’m good, doll. Don’t worry about me. But you might have to show me how to use your washing machine if I can’t figure it out.”

“Not a problem. What else did you want to do today?” 

Bucky starts to answer and is cut off by a knock on your door. It’s barely 9am and you can’t imagine who would be at your door that early. Bucky is up and moving before you can get out of your seat, clearly wondering the same thing. He looks through the peephole and seems relieved. “We got company, mouse.” he announces while he flicks open all of your locks.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well lovelies, we’re in the endgame now. We have probably two days left depending on how long I decide to draw this out/ how long it takes me to scrub over the last four parts. Yep, we’re going to 24 parts total. Then that’ll be all folks. But let’s not dwell, we still have a little left in this journey. For now, let’s find out who was knocking at your door so early in the morning…

Bucky opens your front door to reveal a very confused Director of SHIELD. “Barnes, this is a surprise.” he says as he enters your apartment.

“Hi Fury.” you say affectionately, going over to give him a quick hug. Despite what most of the agency thinks, you know for a fact that Fury is a sweetheart. He rarely shows it but you have spent enough time with him over the past eleven years to have built up a solid friendship with the man. 

Fury purses his lips and glares at Bucky but he accepts your hug and reciprocates it. “You didn’t tell me you had collected a stray, Minnie.” 

“I did too! You knew he was flying back to stay with me.” you protest. Bucky moves next to you to pull you in against his side by your waist, it’s blatantly territorial but you let him. 

“Yes, but letting him crash here is very different than the lack of clothing going on here. And I’m betting if I so much as move wrong towards you, lover boy here would have me split in two.” 

Bucky shrugs and nods at Fury who chuckles at his brazenness.

You turn bright red as you realize you’re in only a t-shirt and Bucky is just in his sweatpants. It looks, well, it looks like exactly what it is. “Come on, Fury. I’m a grown up.”

“I know you are. I’m just a little surprised. Never seen you with a man before, Minerva.” 

Your face flushes even harder. “I’m selective.” you bite back at him.

Fury laughs hard and recovers himself quickly. “So what’s the deal here, Barnes? Do I need to ask what your intentions are with our girl?”

Bucky’s grin is wolfish, “Well, Fury, I just got done making her breakfast and once we’re done I was gonna take her back to bed and-”

“No!” you yelp, cutting him off, “Nope, don’t you dare finish that sentence.” 

Fury is laughing again, “I get the idea, Barnes. How long is your little sabbatical going to take?”

Bucky gives you a sidelong look before responding. He hasn’t had a chance to talk to you about it yet and doesn’t want to over step, but he can’t imagine leaving your side anytime soon. “Take me off the list for now. I won’t be doing any more missions for a while. I’ve already emailed Pepper letting her know I’m out indefinitely.” 

This is news to you. You had hoped but didn’t expect him to really step away from it all. “You didn’t tell me that.” you say, your voice hopeful. 

Bucky kisses your cheek, “I was going to over breakfast. I don’t want to get pulled away right now. I’m going with you to work next week, see how it goes.” 

“Okay, we’ll see how it goes.” you agree. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you jump when Fury clears his throat. 

“Well, isn’t this cute.” he deadpans, “Minnie, if you need anything, call.” he says fondly to you before shooting another glare at Bucky, “Barnes, if you need me, good luck.” 

Bucky laughs and you roll your eyes. Fury hands the case he’s been holding to Bucky and he thanks him for the delivery. 

“Yeah, well, I hadn’t seen our girl here in a while.” Fury shrugs and turns to you, “Your paycheck from the mission was deposited yesterday, by the way. And Barnes, the kids at St. Agnes and the shelter over on East 33rd were both very appreciative of the donations. They’re set up nicely for the foreseeable future.” 

You both thank him and Fury says his goodbyes, reminding you again to call if you need him. 

“I didn’t expect him to show up like that.” you tell Bucky as you sit back down to your breakfast. 

“He’s just looking after you. Probably wanted to make sure you were okay since he knew I was crashing here.” Bucky guesses.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him surprised like that before. He cares though, I can’t fault him for that.”

“Absolutely not, the more people keeping an eye on you the better.”

You pout at him, only slightly offended, “I can take care of myself just fine, thank you.”

“Not saying you can’t, mouse. But it doesn’t hurt to have backup from some very powerful people. There’s something about you that brings out a guy’s over protective instincts.” 

“Like I’m a damsel in distress?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

“No, like you’re the most valuable thing in the world and must be protected at all costs.” 

Your face heats and you give him a shy smile, “Smooth talker.” 

“Only the truth, doll. I would give up my right arm before I let anyone hurt you.” 

You can see the seriousness in his eyes and you drop your fork. A warm, desperate feeling is bubbling up inside you, but it’s too fast, too soon, not even rational. And yet still it forms deep in your chest. You’re blinded by it and its intensity. “Bucky… I…” you flounder for words. 

Bucky sees the emotions flitting across your face and he knows. He sees the emotion you’re trying to stifle down and it echoes what he’s felt forming in his chest since he woke up to you in that hospital room. It doesn’t make any sense to him either and he refuses to think too deeply on it, but it’s there and he knows it’s only getting stronger the longer he’s around you. “It’s okay, doll. Come on, eat your breakfast before it gets any colder. I’m gonna go start on the laundry.” 

Bucky deposits his empty plate and cup in the sink and goes to gather up the dirty clothes. He’s glad you’re tidy by nature, all of your laundry is easy to find in a wicker basket by your dresser. His clothing is strewn between his bag and the floor next to it on his side of the bed. He smiles to himself as he picks up the socks and shirts, he has a side of the bed now. Bucky had noticed the stacked washer and dryer when he was looking for towels in the hall closet and hauls the basket, now full of both of your clothes, over to it. The dials are simplistic and close enough to the ones he had to figure it out on his own. Once he gets the load started he goes back to make the bed, wanting to give you time to eat in peace. He’s finishing up when he hears the sink running and realizes you must be starting on the dishes. Bucky makes his way back to the kitchen and sees that he was right. “Come on, mouse. I’m supposed to be doing all this.” he complains lightly.

You shake your head at him, “No way, you cooked, I’m cleaning up.” 

Bucky grumbles but lets you go. He heads off to find his phone and see if Pepper has responded to him yet. It turned out she didn’t email him back, she called him. Four times. The voicemails range from curious, to annoyed, to concerned. He slips out onto the balcony to call her back.

“Hey Pepper.” he says when she answers.

“Bucky, god, you had me worried!” she yells at him.

“I’m fine, just taking some time off.”

“Time off? Your email said indefinitely. And you won’t even say where you are. What am I supposed to think, Bucky? So soon after Steve, and Tony, and you went on that stupid reckless mission…” she’s genuinely upset and Bucky feels guilty for worrying her.

“I’m sorry, Pep. I get it and I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“So where are you? What happened on the mission? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, the mission was a success. I did get shot but I’ve already healed and I decided to stay with a friend.”

“I’m not even going to start on the ‘you got shot’ part. I know all of your friends, Bucky, they’re here at the compound. So where are you?”

Bucky snorts a laugh at her determination. “I made a new friend. I really can’t tell you where I am though. I can’t do that to her, she’s very private about her life outside of SHIELD. All I’m going to say is that she’s a newly retired agent and I’m perfectly safe.” 

“Wait… you’re with a woman?” 

“Yes, Pepper. She’s a woman.” 

“James Buchanan Barnes.” Pepper says in shock. “Is this woman a friend, or a friend?”

“I care about her very much and I'm leaving it at that. Maybe I’ll bring her out to the compound to meet you guys but don’t expect it anytime soon.” 

“Wow. Just… wow. Okay. As long as your safe. If you need anything from your room here let me know how to get it to you, and you have your card so you don’t need to worry about that. I, uh, I just… wow. Okay, well, be safe and let me know if you need anything. I’ll make sure to take you out of rotation until you tell me otherwise.”

“Thanks, Pepper. I appreciate it. You take care, tell everyone I said hey.”

“You take care too, Bucky.”

They said their goodbyes and Bucky heads back inside to you.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know ya’ll are thirsty for more lemons and not gonna lie, it’s pretty lemony from here on out. Enjoy darlings :)

“Everything okay?” you ask him as he joins you in the living room.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “I had to call Pepper back. My email gave her a fright. She just wanted to make sure I’m okay.”

“That’s nice of her. Is everything sorted out then?”

“Yep, I’m officially out of the rotation. I can go back whenever I want or I can be done permanently. She’ll let the others know today.” 

“Are you going to miss it? Maybe not the missions, but your friends?” You had mulled this over a few times since he agreed to come back with you. You were pulling him into your world without anything from his own; his friends, his belongings, his life back at the Avengers compound.

“I was only really close with Sam and he has my number. I’m sure I’ll be getting a call as soon as Pepper tells him I’ve gone off with some mystery woman. I’ll see the others eventually and they know how to reach me if they need something.”

“But you had a life back there, Buck. I want you in my world, I really do. I want to give this a real chance. But don’t you want some of your stuff at least?”

“I don’t have much but I was thinking after we give it some time we could take a little trip out to get what’s left. You know, if I decide this hiatus is going to be permanent. Everyone is going to want to meet you anyway, if you’re willing.” 

“We could do that at some point. And I met Sam once on a mission a few years ago, he’s a good guy. He’s taken over Steve’s old shield and title, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah, he has. It couldn’t have gone to a better person. He reminds me a lot of Steve but he is such a smart ass.”

“I remember he had a sense of humor. I’m okay if you tell Sam you’re with me. Not where, of course, but you can let him know we’re… together. I don’t think he’ll tell anyone if you ask him not to.” 

“Nah, he wouldn’t blab. And I would like to tell him about us.”

“What are you going to tell him?” you tease, your tone shifting to low and suggestive as you walk over to him to wrap your arms around his solid waist. 

Bucky runs his hand through your hair and kisses the spot on your neck that makes you moan softly. “Well, I’m gonna tell him I’m staying with you. That you’re unbelievably kind, and soft, and so sweet. And you make the most amazing little moans when I…” You shove him away and he trails off laughing at your incensed look. “Come on, mouse. I was teasing. I’m just going to tell him we’re together and then, knowing my dumb ass, I’ll probably bore him to death telling him how completely wrapped around your little finger I am.” 

“Mmm, smooth recovery.” you pull his head down for a kiss. His hand is rubbing circles along the curve of your hip and it’s driving you wild. You run your hands over his chest, giving yourself ideas of how you want to spend your morning. You press your body against his and your arms snake around him, your hands tracing the hard planes of his back. 

He makes a throaty noise as your hands move lower, stopping to cup his shapely backside in your palms. “Careful there, mouse.” 

You raise your head up to meet his eyes, “Oh, I know what I’m doing.” you tell him. 

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Well, Mr. Barnes, I’m seducing you.” You’re cheering internally at your display of confidence. He had been so giving yesterday and while you know he came too, it’s not the same as you being an active participant in giving him pleasure. 

Bucky groans a little, “Doll, you can do that just by standing there.”

You swat his butt lightly, “Come on, Bucky, let me show you what I mean.” 

You take Bucky’s hand and lead him to the bedroom and you’re pleasantly surprised to find your bed made. You position him at the foot of the bed and push him lightly so he’s sitting down. He is watching you intently, waiting to see what exactly you have planned. Excited just at the thought that you wanted to do something for him, regardless of what it is. You nudge his knees further apart so you can stand in between them, close to him but not quite touching. It’s nerve wracking, but you’re determined to carry out your plan. Bucky genuinely seems to appreciate your body and you tamp down the anxiety that he may find something unappealing about you naked. 

Giving Bucky the sultriest smile you can manage, you pull the hem of your night shirt up slowly and toss it on the floor. You’re standing between his legs, bare except for your pink striped panties and you do your damnedest not to make your discomfort known. You chance a glance at Bucky and it stops your internal monologue. Bucky is staring at you like you’re water in a desert. 

“Holy shit, mouse.” He says like a prayer. 

Your inhibitions evaporate and you smile at him genuinely this time. Your confidence restored, you lean in to kiss him and he wraps his arm around your waist, locking you against him. His kisses are reverent and his hand trails up your side to your breasts which he alternates kneading in his wide palm. “Fuck doll” he murmurs between kisses and you shudder under his touch. 

“Hey,” you press a palm against his chest but he’s a wall of muscle and doesn’t budge. “Hey,” you try again “This is supposed to be about you.” you remind him. 

He lets you move back but looks confused, “Doll, believe me, I was doing that for me.” he says and glances down at the tent that has formed in his sweats. 

You blush and pull on the waist of his sweatpants to remove them. Bucky leans back and props himself up on his hand, lifting his hips off the bed so you can pull them all the way off, and damn if it doesn’t turn you on as his bicep and ab muscles all constrict and flex as he moves. You get his pants completely off and stay kneeling between his impossibly thick thighs. You look up at his eyes before slowly trailing down his body to the erection that you’ve freed and is now arching out and slightly up. You knew it was going to be impressive just from what you felt pressed against your thigh the day before but nothing could have prepared you for this. 

You’re not a virgin by any means but it’s been quite some time and with significantly smaller men. Bucky is long and girthy, his skin smooth and soft, with a large blunt head which is currently purpling from the rush of blood. “Wow.” you whisper to yourself, amazed. 

Bucky hears you and groans. “You keep lookin’ at me like that, doll, and things are gonna be over before you lay a hand on me.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I just… you’re just… wow.” you smile up at him like a drunk and you don’t even care. He is absolutely magnificent and you’ve gone from wanting to do this because you want to bring him pleasure, to wanting to do this because you need to taste him. Carefully you reach out and take him in your palm, quickly realizing you can’t wrap your fingers all the way around his shaft. The thought worries you for a moment, hoping you can fit enough of him in your mouth to make it pleasurable for him. You trail your hand lightly along his shaft, tracing your thumb over the ridge of his head and he gasps. Not willing to wait, you slide your hand down to the base of his shaft and, watching his face closely for his reaction, you lower your mouth and swallow as much of him as possible. You’re pleased with yourself that you manage to take in more of him than you expected and his reaction is better than you could have imagined. Bucky’s whole body shudders, his eyes rolling back in his head, and litany of mindless endearments fall from his lips. When his eyes snap back open his pupils are blown wide with lust and his breaths are coming in ragged gasps, every muscle in his body is coiled tight and you can see he’s barely holding on. 

You are spurred on by his reactions and you start moving your hands in tandem with your mouth, focusing on laving your tongue along his shaft and swirling it around his swollen head. His body continues shaking at your every movement and you wonder how long he’s going to be able to hold out. You snake one hand down from his shaft to cup his balls and are not surprised that they are also large and weighty. You knead them gently as your continue to worship his cock which is leaking precum steadily now. You wouldn’t say you enjoy the bitter saline fluid but you’re lapping it up like it’s ice cream because it’s Bucky and the thought of bringing him to this point turns you on beyond comprehension. Your jaw is starting to ache and you pray that you’ll be able to hang on long enough to finish him. The way he’s shaking though, you think you stand a chance. 

Bucky is consumed by the need raging in his body and he doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore. He knows it’s mix of doll, baby, mouse, a variety of curse words, and prayers, but he can’t think straight when you move your tongue like that. The sight of you almost completely bare between his legs with your sweet mouth on his cock makes him want to come right away and he’s holding on for dear life, trying not to spend himself so quickly. It’s mildly embarrassing how quickly he came in his jeans yesterday from nothing more than watching you fall apart in his hand and rubbing against your thigh. He needs to make this last just a little bit longer and he pulls on every bit of strength in his body to hold off. He barks out your name when you cup his balls and he knows he’s on the losing side of the battle with himself. He can feel his balls constrict, the pressure building rapidly and he prays silently that you give him a chance to prove he can go longer than this later. 

You can feel his cock thickening yet again and you gasp around him, amazed it can swell anymore and knowing it means he’s so very close. His balls pull in tightly and you move your hand back up so they’re both pumping in rhythm with your mouth and you can focus your tongue properly on the top of his shaft and head. You flick it against the bottom ridge and watch as his body shakes violently as he tries to keep himself supported by his one arm. His eyes are half open and you wait for them to meet yours again. When they do, you give him a small smile around his cock and then hollow your cheeks increasing the pressure as you give his head several rapid flicks with your tongue. Bucky makes an animalistic sound and his body goes rigid. Abruptly he spends himself in your mouth and you are quick to gulp it down, taking care of your man like you want so desperately to do. 

Bucky has barely finished coming when he collapses back on the bed, every muscle in his body trembling and weak. He’s gasping for air and trying to let his brain turn back on so he can ensure you’re okay. He feels you move away and is concerned momentarily until he feels your weight press down on the bed. You slide up next to him on his left, lying on your side and smiling down at him. He smiles back, trying and failing to find the words he wants to say to you.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More lemons ahead, shocking i know lol. And a VERY brief mention of past non-con while he was under HYDRA’s control, nothing graphic or specific, just a reference but I felt the need to include it because I love ya’ll and don’t want to offend anyone.

Bucky’s silence worries you a little considering how vocal he was beforehand. “So that was… okay?” you ask hopefully. The last time you had done that you were still in college so you weren’t exactly experienced, but you hoped it was good for him.

Bucky stares at your incredulously. “Doll that was… that was… fuck, I still don’t even have the words for it. Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“Oh.” you can’t hide your surprise or how pleased you are, “Good. I wasn’t sure and I tend to overthink things.” 

Bucky shakes his head, “It was perfect, absolutely amazing. I just wish I could have hung on a little longer.” he blushes, feeling a little self conscious, “It’s been a while and god help me just the sight of you down there about did me in.” 

“It’s okay, Bucky. Please don’t think I care about that, I really don’t. It’s been a very long time for me too.” 

Bucky chuckles, “My definition of a very long time and yours are really not comparable, mouse.” 

“You know I’ve had my abilities for eleven years now. I’ve only had three failed relationships since then and only two of them progressed to the bedroom. And it was disastrous both times. After that I gave up.” you explain, hoping it helps ease his mind a little.

It doesn’t, it just makes his heart ache for you and he wishes he knew who those idiots were so he could go tear them limb from limb. “Well, sweetheart, I went off to war in 1943 and I wasn’t exactly a ladies man before that.” 

You try to sort out if he’s kidding or not, unsure by how nonchalant he’s being. “You’re kidding, right? I saw the exhibit on you at the museum in DC when I was a teenager. All those pictures; you and Steve before the war, and then you in your uniform, and in the Howling Commandos. You looked every bit the ladies man they played you up to be.”

Bucky laughs, “It wasn’t hard to seem suave next to Steve before he was given the serum. And honestly, I grew up in a house full of women and a best friend who was either sick or tripping over his own two feet. I spent all of my time taking care of my sisters, taking care of Steve, and at the library.”

You struggle to respond to his brutal honesty. It seems so unbelievable but also explains a lot. “Okay, so maybe the historians exaggerated. But what about after all that?” 

Bucky cringes, “There is no after. HYDRA captured me and that was pretty much it for the next seventy odd years. Once Steve got me out I wasn’t fit to be around anyone, let alone try to date a girl. I get flashes sometimes and I think… I think they used the soldier sometimes. With other agents or whatever. I don’t know why and I don’t remember all of it though.” Bucky takes a long breath. He never talks about the little he remembers of his time with HDYRA but he wants to with you. Bucky feels a little lighter unburdening to you and he thinks that at some point maybe he’ll share all of it with you, when he’s ready. 

You try to stomp down your horror at his revelation before he sees your expression. You wish you hadn’t pushed the conversation, “Bucky that’s awful.” 

“It’s okay, doll. Don’t look so upset. Like I said, I don’t really remember it much. But now you believe me? It’s been a very long time for me. And I couldn’t be happier that it’s with you. You’re perfect, mouse.” he leans over to caress your face with his right hand and you nuzzle against him. 

“I’m glad it’s with you too.” you say against his palm, planting a firm kiss against it. 

“Now, no more gloom. I’m gonna go grab my arm and then you’re gonna be the one who’s lying brainless on the bed.” he gives you a wolfish smile and jumps up off the bed. 

Bucky returns to your bedroom, fastening on the arm Fury had brought for him, testing it out carefully. “God, I love this thing.” he says. 

Bucky joins you on the bed, sitting on the edge so he can run his vibranium hand from your hip to knee. “So soft,” he purrs, “I can feel it.” 

The cool metal leaves trails of goosebumps as he trails it along your skin. “That’s amazing. I’m glad Shuri was able to make it for you.” 

“Me too, mouse, because I want to feel you every way possible.” 

Your eyes widen as he pulls your hips so you’re laying on your back on the bed. 

“Scoot up, doll.” he tells you and grabs a pillow. He wraps his vibranium arm under your thighs and lifts your legs and hips up to slide a pillow under your butt. Bucky starts trailing kisses across your thighs and up your hips to the soft swell of your belly and the fleeting self consciousness that rises up in you is quickly shot down by the throaty noises of appreciation he’s making. Bucky moves his kisses over top the soft cotton of your panties and you can feel his hot breath through the thin fabric making you clench your fists in the blankets so you don’t squirm. He finally pulls down your panties, tossing them on the floor by his sweatpants, and you’re bare in front of him at last. Bucky makes an almost pained sound and lays his head on your thigh for a moment. “Oh, doll, you really are perfect.” he says reverently. 

You are floating at his compliment. There is a lightness in your chest in knowing he has seen all of you, even the flaws that you would hide, and still desires you. Bucky runs the long pointer finger of his right hand up your folds while his vibranium hand rubs a thumb over your hip and squeezes it gently. You tremble, knowing what’s coming. Bucky’s right hand parts your lips and he runs his flattened tongue along your core. He laps at you, his nose rubbing at your clit for a moment and you squirm a little uncontrollably. He pulls back a moment, “So fucking sweet.” he growls before diving back in. Latching on to your clit, he alternates between sucking on it and flicking it gently with his tongue. You’re trembling hard, unable to believe how good feels when he slides two cool, metal fingers into you. “Oh fuck, I can feel you tightening up on me.” he moans and his shoulders shake a moment. His mouth continues to worship your core and his right hand jolts up to cup your breast, kneading it gently. 

Your body is on fire under him. You feel positively consumed by him, his mouth and hands overwhelming your senses. You can’t keep up with the flood of pleasure and you’re grinding down on his mouth with embarrassing fervor but you can’t help yourself, it’s just too much all at once and into too many places. The rhythm of his tongue against your clit and the two fingers inside you speed up and you make a soft keening sound, barely able to keep your hips in place on the pillow. His right arm snakes back down to lay across your lower belly, keeping you in place securely. The orgasm that hits you does so with little warning and you go from whining gasps to screaming his name in an instant. Bucky groans loudly and the vibrations add to the intensity of your orgasm as he draws it out longer and longer, before slowly bringing you back down. Carefully he laps at your slick folds, cleaning up and savoring the taste of you before he moves away.

You’re still breathing hard and your thighs tremble beneath his cheek as he rests on you, tracing circles on the soft skin of your thighs. You slip a hand down to play in his hair affectionately and he looks up at you, his beard glistening from your arousal. He can see the joy on your face and pride swells in him for being the cause of it. Bucky moves up next to you on the bed and carefully removes the pillow from under your hips. You can’t help but notice a hardness pressing against your thigh and you look down to see Bucky is rock hard again. “Round two?” you offer with a mischievous smile. 

Bucky groans but shakes his head, “You don’t have to, doll. This damn thing is an overachiever.” 

“We could… you know. If you want to.” You’re suddenly shy but very, very ready.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did ya’ll like the cliff hanger from last night? I know ya’ll are ready at this point! LOL. This is the second to last part and I’ll be posting the last one in a few minutes. Try not two dwell on the impending end, for now just enjoy the most lemony lemon yet.

Bucky takes a shuddered breath considering your words. “You sure, doll? We don’t have to do anything unless you’re really ready.” 

“I’m ready. Really, really ready, Buck. Are you?” you begin stroking his erection, teasing him. 

Bucky arches his neck, straining for control. “Fuck. Yes, I am. Oh god, doll. I’m so ready. Do you have rubber?” 

“Shit. No, but I have a birth control implant so I can’t get pregnant and I’m clean.”

“I’m clean as a whistle because of the serum. If you’re okay with it so am I.” 

You squeeze his throbbing cock in your hand, “Get inside me, Barnes.” you command.

“Yes, ma’am.” he says in a rush, moving over top of you. His right hand drops to rub against your still wet sex and he positions himself right at your entrance. Bucky takes a moment to meet your eyes, ensuring there’s no hesitation, and you give him a quick nod. With one gentle push the head of his cock is inside and you’re gasping at the intrusion. He’s so hard and burning hot as he moves painfully slow until he’s fully seated within your walls. You’re both shaking and panting, and you can’t help but let out a soft giggle. Bucky looks down at the sound, “You’re incredible.” you manage between gasps. 

“So are you, doll. You ready?” he asks, wiggling his hips. 

You bite down on your lip and nod quickly. Bucky starts moving inside you, dragging his hot velvet length in and out until you’re barely coherent. He places wet kisses across your neck and breasts as he moves, wanting to lose himself completely in you. His endless stream of endearments start up and your body is ignited by his affections. Bucky’s pace quickens and he’s spurred on by the soft breathless moans you make in return. You can feel another orgasm forming, coiling low in your belly as his cock hits just the right spot inside you with each deep thrust. You’ve never felt so incredibly stretched before and you’re grateful for how well your body accommodates his size. 

Keeping your eyes open as your pleasure builds is no easy task but the sight of Bucky on top of you is well worth the effort. His body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his long hair sways with each thrust, tickling your over sensitized skin. You are desperate to kiss his mouth as it hangs slightly open from the exertion and you lean up to capture it with your own. Bucky moans against your mouth, his own climax starting to rapidly build. He’s frantic again, wanting to prolong the pleasure but catapulting towards his release. He slips his right hand down to rub quick circles against your clit, determined to take you over the edge first. 

You are delirious under him as he continues his rhythm and the mindless ramblings of appreciation. You’re right on the edge and Bucky can feel your walls beginning to tremble. “That’s it, doll.” he murmurs, his forehead resting against your breasts as he focuses his efforts, “Just come apart for me, sweetheart. You’re so perfect around me. Please, doll, come for me.” he pleads. Your mind is lost but your body obeys and you shatter around him, your world momentarily going white as you climax. You’re shaking all around him, nails digging fiercely into his back as you cry out wordlessly. 

Bucky thinks he’s died as you clench around his cock, your muscles squeezing him so tightly that he falls over the edge of another orgasm. Your walls continue to pulse around him as he comes, his body jolting from the force, and he cries your name over and over until he’s spent. He’s thankful that his vibranium arm holds most of his weight as he collapses on top of you. Bucky is overwhelmed when emotions more intense than he’s ever felt before rise up. He struggles to reign himself in but you’re so sweet and perfect beneath him that he’s losing the battle. He doesn’t care that he’s known you for less than a week. He feels like he’s spent a lifetime with you, having felt more alive in the past three days than he had for the previous eighty years. Bucky knows without a doubt that he loves you and it scares the hell out of him.

You feel dampness on your chest and reach out to brush Bucky’s hair back to locate the source. The tears falling from his eyes are the last thing you expect and you scramble to get a good look at him, leaning up and collecting his hair in your hand at the nape of his neck. “Bucky, what’s wrong?” you ask, trying not to panic.

Bucky sniffles, unable to articulate his feelings.

“Baby, what’s the matter? Are you okay?” you are trying to stay calm but you can’t decipher his expression and the tears continue to slowly fall. 

Bucky realizes he’s freaking you out and manages to reply, “I’m okay.” he sniffles harshly, “Just need a minute.” He lays his head back down on your pillowy breasts and slowly gets himself back under control. “I’m sorry, mouse. I didn’t mean to scare you.” he says finally, his voice mostly steady.

You’re still playing in his hair soothingly and you only stop when he moves so he’s facing you. “I’m more worried about you right now.” you say honestly.

“I’m good. Just got carried away there for a minute. I care about you so damn much, mouse, and it’s overwhelming. You’re so perfect, and that was... that was incredible. I never thought I would have something so perfect in my life. I just… I…” words fail him as he fights back the urge to tell you he loves you. He knows it’s too soon and he’s not willing to risk scaring you away. 

You see the emotion behind his shining blue eyes and know he’s fighting the same feelings burning in your chest. “I know.” you reassure him with a kiss. “I know, Bucky. I feel it too.” 

Bucky feels like the wind has been knocked out of him and he collapses on your chest, refusing to start tearing up again. He sends up silent prayers of thanks to Steve, his ma, his sisters, and whoever else might be listening for bringing you into his life. He’s relieved you don’t make him say the words just yet but acknowledge that the feeling is there and mutual. You continue to thread your fingers through his hair, hoping it gives him a little comfort while he processes everything that’s come up in his mind. Finally pulling himself together again Bucky lifts his head up to kiss you tenderly, the taste of his tears still fresh on his lips. “You gonna be okay if I move, doll?” he asks. 

“Yeah, go ahead.” you tell him. 

Bucky slips himself out of you and you can feel the product of your joint orgasms pooling on your thighs. “Let me get something to clean you up.” he begins getting up but you grab hold of his hand, stopping him. 

“We could just take a shower. Together.” you suggest.

“Even better.” Bucky pulls you up and into his arms. He kisses you again softly, he can’t keep his hands off of you despite having just been inside you only minutes ago. 

You chuckle against his lips, “Come on, you.” you lead him by the hand into your little bathroom and he follows silently enjoying the sight of your ass bouncing as you walk.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the last installment of What He Wants. I’ve agonized over what to say here for most of today and nothing sounds quite right. I guess it’s never easy to say goodbye, but part of the journey is the end. Some of you will leave happy and satisfied, some of you will grumble, and some will beg for more. I stand by this as a good stopping point though. I’m not saying I’ll never pick up where you and Bucky leave off; to maybe do another story or some one shots, but I don’t know yet. I need to let my brain rest after two weeks of daily updates and pouring my soul into this little world. I do want to say thank you though. You readers have been so kind and welcoming to this little writing community here and over on Tumblr. I am eternally grateful for every single one of you. Every kudos and comment has given me infinite joy even when shit got real in my real life. So thank you for going on this journey with me and hanging out until the very end. I love you all 3,000.

The bathtub shower combo in your bathroom is really only meant for one person. Squeezing a super soldier in it comfortably with the curtain closed is a feat in itself, but with both of you in it, it verges on comical. Bucky is determined though and as soon as you have the water falling at a reasonable temperature he’s guiding you in under the spray. He lathers your perfumed bar of soap between his palms and you’re surprised he isn’t worried about getting his vibranium arm wet. The marvels of Wakandan tech, you suppose. 

Bucky rubs his soapy hands across your chest, kneading your shoulder muscles before moving lower to caress your breasts. He lavishes them with attention only for a moment, intent on actually cleaning you instead of starting something again. His palms slip down your waist, rubbing soothing circles across your soft tummy, and he reaches for more soap to lather his hands up again. Bucky smooths his slippery hands down further down, cupping your sex gently in his palm as he works gently to clean you. You brace your palms on his shoulders for support, his hands are relaxing all of your muscles as he works and making it difficult for you to stay upright. Your thighs tremble as he moves to them, working out the knots in your muscles as he goes. Delicately, he lifts each of your feet as he reaches the bottom of your calves and even takes the care to wash them as well. 

“You’re gonna have to turn around, sweetheart.” he tells you gently and you oblige, holding on to the wall for support instead of him. He moves back up your legs, stopping above your knees for more soap. Bucky is savoring every moment of washing your well loved body and he works your tense glutes until you’re sighing in relief. Bucky continues upward, ending finally as he works the last of the knots out of your shoulders. Once he’s satisfied you are completely clean he trails kisses across your shoulders, “All set, doll. Do you want me to do your hair too?” 

You moan again, “I would say no, you’ve already done too much, but god help me your hands are magic.” 

A satisfied chuckle rumbles in Bucky’s chest, “I haven’t done nearly enough, doll. Turn around and I’m gonna do your hair too. Let me take care of my girl.”

Your heart speeds up when he calls you his girl. It’s so old fashioned but it makes you feel cherished and loved. You turn to face Bucky, getting your hair under the spray, and he’s ready with your shampoo bottle. Bucky’s hands are just as skilled massaging your scalp with your shampoo and then conditioner, even knowing to work the knots out of your hair as the conditioner rinses out. You are completely spineless by the time he’s done and you wish you could return the favor but he swaps your positions and starts washing himself with quick, efficient swipes of his soap. He’s gorgeous as his vibranium hand rubs the soap across the hard muscles of his body and you are chastising yourself for not offering to reciprocate, especially as he moves down to wash his thick thighs and your mouth goes dry at the thought of running slippery hands down and in between them. 

Pulling yourself together you grab Bucky’s shampoo and wait until he finishes washing himself. “Let me at least do your hair?” you ask him.

“I’d love that, doll.” he moves to kneel in front of you and you’re amused by how tall he still is compared to you. You tilt his head back into the spray, ensuring it’s well soaked. The shampoo Bucky picked out smells crisp and piney, it compliments his natural scent and you love it on him. You work your fingers over every inch of his scalp slowly, ensuring his hair is clean and he’s able to enjoy your gentle massaging. Bucky’s eyes are closed, a peaceful smile on his lips, and you’re pleased he seems to be enjoying it. Since he’s letting you take care of his hair, you grab your good conditioner and start massaging it in too. He might not think it’s worth using on his hair but you suspect once he feels the difference he’ll be hooked. 

You finish rinsing Bucky's hair and he’s still sitting back on his heels, seemingly lost in his own little world. Leaning down you place a kiss on his forehead, rousing him from his thoughts. “That was fantastic, mouse.” He says as he stands. 

You shut off the water and Bucky steps out, grabbing your towel to hand to you. He looks inquisitively at the stack of four large towels and when he turns back to you he finds you bent over twisting your hair up in the towel he’d handed you. “Interesting.” He muses looking at the towel wrapped securely around your head. 

“Do you not do this?” You ask, surprised, “There’s two towels for each of us. I figured you did because your hair is so long.”

Bucky shakes his wet head, “No, but I’d like to learn.” 

You grab one of the towels and have him lean forward, mirroring how you did yours. You walk him through the steps and a minute later he’s doing it perfectly fine on his own. “I like this.” He says patting at his handiwork. 

“It saves drying time, I think.” You explain. 

Bucky nods and starts drying himself off, looking over occasionally and smiling at you. There is an unexpected intimacy as you share the bathroom, even as you brush your teeth together. It makes your usual morning routine more enjoyable having someone to share it with. You plan your day as you get dressed in the bedroom and Bucky insists he’s going to make you his ma’s spaghetti for dinner. You’ll need to stay home all day while the sauce cooks on the stove but neither of you mind. Bucky wants to get the laundry done and offers to help fix the wobbly shelf on your bookcase in the living room. It’s drizzling outside now and there’s a slight bite to the air that makes you more than happy to stay inside all day. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky loves putzing around your apartment. It makes him feel productive and useful. He wants to do everything possible for you, not because you can’t but because you shouldn’t have to with him around. Bucky ends up putting your old toolbox to good use, not just on the shelf, but on a window that sticks, a loose cabinet drawer, and the wiggly handle on your large soup pot. You watch with amusement over the top of your book as he works, knowing if you try to move from the sofa you’ll just be scolded again. 

You’re trying to wrap your mind around the concept of this becoming a regular thing. Waking up together, Bucky trying to spoil you and splitting the chores, quiet cozy days spent relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. Even once you go back to work, having him with you will change that routine as well. Getting ready, driving in, lunch breaks, coming home, everything done together. It might seem smothering to some people but the idea of spending all of your time with him sounds perfect to you. Eventually the occasional nights out with your coworkers out will resume, and Bucky will want to make time to go see his friends, and that will be okay too because at the end of the day you’ll be coming back to your cozy little apartment, together. 

Bucky has run out of things to do and after a quick check on his sauce, he joins you on the sofa. He watches you quietly, wondering what thoughts are keeping you so occupied. Bucky picks up a worn, copy of “American Gods” and settles in to relax. The book only holds his attention for a few minutes as you shift in your seat across from him. Bucky takes a moment to just watch you, the way you worry your bottom lip between your teeth and the way your eyes crinkle on the edges when you read something that amuses you. He could watch you all day given a chance and he finds himself baffled by how much his life changed in just a few days. 

Steve has been gone just over a week and the pain is still fresh but it’s softening around the edges. Now that Bucky understands the type of happiness and peace he’s found with you, he can only imagine how rare and beautiful it had to be for Steve to go back to Peggy and live out his life by her side. He will always miss his best friend, but he can honestly say he understands the choices Steve made and that they were the right ones. Bucky smiles to himself as he listens to the soft falling rain and let’s himself really be present in the here and now. This is his life now, a cozy little place off of SHIELD’s radar, a good woman who loves him, even though they hadn’t yet said the words, and endless possibilities for the future. Because for the first time since 1944, Bucky Barnes is looking forward to the rest of his life.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! Feel free to come find me over on Tumblr! I'm on there as Ethereal Waif Goddess. I would love nothing more than to get to chat with ya'll about this story, our darling Bucky, and everything/ anything Marvel.


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